I expected as much as I nodded toward her, accepting her service. Surprisingly, she saluted my rank with the same deference she paid Malik. Her attitude bullish and aggressive, she nudged Windy aside with pinned ears and bared talons. Back off, she warned, this is my turf, get lost or be lost.
Windy grimaced and gave ground, his long lion tail lashing back and forth. He sat down not far away, his grooming forgotten. Sending him a swift wink and quick smile, I hoped to assure him that I hadn’t, nor ever will, forget his loyalty. With a rapid jerk of his beak, he told me without words, ‘Chill, I get it, girls are the pits,’.
“We must travel, Commander,” Iyumi said, her tone frosty. Her pale face appeared over her slender shoulder. “Will noon be too early?”
As the sun had barely cleared the horizon, noon lay hours off. Goaded, knowing perfectly well she gouged his ribs with her stick, he nodded. “Grey Mist and Valcan, you’re sky watch. Padraig, Edara – you’re the vanguard. Kasi, Moon Whisperer, you cover the rearguard. Edryd, Alain, Dusan, you three scout one mile out. Report every hour. The rest of you, form up.”
Those assigned their posts obeyed instantly. Padraig handed the blue’s reins to Gaear, and saluted Malik. After a brief, yet respectful, nod toward Iyumi, he trotted across the shallow stream we camped beside, water splashing silver under the light of the new sun. His hooves rattled over river rock and pebbles, his long hair rising from his shoulders from the breeze he created. He never glanced back.
Edara’s salute to both Malik and Iyumi contained considerable more deference as she hastily gathered her chestnut quarters under her. Adjusting her bow across her back, settling her quiver at her right equine shoulder, Edara loped to catch up. If they spoke, I never saw or heard any evidence of it. They vanished over the green hill, side by side.
“Captain.”
I stiffened as Iyumi’s face appeared over her shoulder once more.
“Princess?”
“See to my horse. I wish you to ride beside me this day.”
“Princess.”
I saluted her stiff back, and strode toward the blue roan. My own Kiera watched me from the edge of camp where she grazed the thin, high altitude grass, her black tail swishing against annoying flies. Though I approached another, jealousy never entered her mind nor her dark eyes.
Gaear nodded crisply as he handed over the blue’s reins, his pale blue eyes hard, just as Malik’s voice rose. “Lieutenant Gaear, you will fly as scout and messenger this day.”
Stiff, obviously angry, Gaear saluted his commanding officer with the barest respect. Knowing Malik as I did, I knew he recognized Gaear’s defiance and filed the information away, for later use. He’d not act now, for he was a patient Centaur. He’d allow Gaear enough rope before tightening the noose.
“An eagle, if you will, Lieutenant.”
As the blue dipped his muzzle into my hands, whiffing my scent, I watched, sidelong as Gaear paced away, needing room to change his shape into the eagle Malik ordered. I half-wondered if Malik commanded this form just to aggravate Gaear. Birds of prey were never his strong suit. He never liked flying, and his favorite animal shapes were the fox and the wolf. If and when he flew, Gaear preferred less complicated creatures like seagulls or sparrows. Birds with strange feathers, sharp beaks and curved talons – not his style at all. Mice and voles caught his attention far too often and he tended to forget his marching orders under the fierce rule of his stomach.
Forcing my eyes to remain carefully neutral and cease their exasperated roll, I watched as Gaear frowned ponderously and slowly, methodically, shifted. His first attempt made me laugh, though I kept the sound behind my tight jaw. It looked like the retarded offspring of an owl and a wren: too-short wings, a bulbous beak and an interesting assortment of feathers. Any self-respecting eagle would die of shame. Both Iyumi and Malik stared hard at me, however, as though reading my mind, and knew my laughter bubbled close to eruption. Perhaps they did, at that.
His second attempt improved matters, in my opinion, but not by much. I saw a few improved raptor elements (a longer wingspan, a sharply curved beak) before he gave it up. He stood quiet, thinking hard, as camp quickly fell apart around him. Pack horses sighed down their noses as Windy and Moon stuffed their panniers with supplies. Grey Mist rose on ponderous wings, circling higher and higher. Valcan, more talented than Gaear, chose to soar effortlessly in his wake in the body of a black raven. Together, they rose higher yet, small dots against a pale, sun-washed sky. One flew north, the other south.
Gaear cursed under his breath, knowing full well his Shifter skill wasn’t up to Atani standards. He tried again, and this time almost made the grade. Had he lengthened his wingspan, and shortened his tail, his majestic eagle might mount the morning breeze with grace and beauty. Instead, his human form blushed with angry heat as no few chuckles flourished. Iyumi’s ironic question only made matters worse.
“While we’re young, Lieutenant?”
Ignore him, I told myself firmly. Mind your own affairs. I turned my back on Gaear’s efforts, biting my tongue, hard. Tears of pain squirted into my eyes but I blinked them away. I tended to my assigned task as one deeply involved with it, but listened, laughter curbed sharply, as Gaear found an eagle’s shape one far above his skill level.
Padraig may be half horse, I thought, loosening the roan’s girth. But he had no clue how to saddle one. The stallion’s relieved snort wet my cheek and neck as I fixed the annoying girth and settled it more comfortably around his belly. Untangling his reins, I adjusted his bridle for a better fit, and shot a swift glance over my shoulder. Malik frowned as Iyumi tapped her cheek with her forefinger, obviously annoyed. Choked laughter and coughed splutters abounded although no creature actually watched Gaear closely. Not that I could say for certain, anyway. Gods above, I thought, cringing inwardly. It’s not radical biology, for heaven’s sake. Any Shifter over age four could do it.
Gaear finally discovered what an eagle could and should feel like. Under the chuckles and disdain, Gaear’s reddened cheeks vanished under an eagle’s parted, yellow beak. Screaming his rage against those who laughed, he leaped into the morning light. His broad wings beat hard, striving for altitude and peace from ridicule below. He found a warm thermal and circled higher and higher until he was but a dark spot against the blue.
“About bloody time,” Iyumi muttered. “I hope he isn’t your best, Commander.”
Malik floundered under the royal criticism, at a loss for words. A faint flush of beet red crept from his brow-band and slid south. Like smiling, Malik seldom blushed, and I knew Iyumi’s tongue wounded him in his very sensitive core. Only the King dared reprimand him, if merited, and only in private.
“The best is at your service, my liege.” I bowed low over my hand on my breast, grinning.
She eyed me up and down, her brow raised. Too royal to actually scoff, she offered a small, choked sound as she tried hard to prevent an eye roll. “Of course, Captain,” she muttered. “I’m in the best of, er, hands.”
“Hands, claws, talons, hooves,” I replied, my tone light, “they’re at your service. As are we all.”
“Fall out,” Malik barked, not quite recovered from the royal slight. “Moon, Kasi, why are you still here?”
The said Griffins saluted smartly and leapt skyward. After circling for a better vantage point, Moon and Kasi winged southward, flying wingtip to wingtip in precise formation. They vanished over the forest’s green, spiked tops, winging toward the snow-tipped mountains on the distant horizon.
I watched them go, envy tickling my soul. I loved flying point, craved every order that sent me into the sky, listening to the earth’s thrum below, and feeling that life’s sorrows could never touch me again. In whatever form I chose: hawk, falcon, Griffin, owl, or simple sparrow, I felt as free as I never felt before. The wind whispered through my feathers, granting me lift and altitude. I’d soar beneath their brilliance and uncomplicated freedom, and forget I had a history. Let that idiot Gaear stay ea
rthbound and stupid. Command me to fly. Please.
“Van, you still with me?”
Edryd, Dusan and Alain vaulted into their saddles. With the barest of salutes, they set spurs to silky hides and galloped, hard, away. I knew the drill. One rode north, one east, the last west. The scout, Gaear this time, flew from one to the other, gathering reports before returning to brief Malik.
“Captain Vanyar?”
Startled, I broke from my daydream. “Er, yes. Quite.”
Iyumi shook her braid in exasperated humor. “Dolt,” she muttered.
I swore I’d never call her a bitch again. “Ignorant ninny.”
“Captain Vanyar,” Malik barked. “You’re on cleanup duty for a month. Show some bloody respect, will you?”
“Only if I must.”
I flashed Iyumi an impudent grin. She responded with a rapid, there-and-gone, smile. I knew she masked her real feelings, and she knew I knew. The bitch stood as her cover. Inside, where it counted, Iyumi guarded her innermost self. The sweet girl beneath the bitch, hidden from all eyes, loved love in all its forms, and valued the most trivial of lives. A spider may wander across her path, and she blessed it. A dog dare bite her and she caressed its ears. A young idiot prince might strike her across the cheek and she dared anyone to kill him for the offense.
What a girl. No, a princess borne of blood and power, I thought, quickly reassessing, realizing her girlhood had departed a long time ago. She’s a queen worthy of swearing one’s undying loyalty to, I told myself. Happily, I’d offer my life for hers and never regret the loss.
With a practiced hand, she nudged the blue beside Malik. Her blue eyes turned up to his, she captured and enslaved his very soul. Her voice low and musical, anyone within hearing paused in their labored to listen and sigh. Sweet, angelic and utterly kind. “Commander,” she said, her tone sweet, as she lay her tiny hand across his scarred and calloused fingers.
“Princess?”
“Keep Vanyar on a tight leash, will you?”
“Uh – “
“I don’t much like him these days.”
Kiera trotted beneath me, her gait as smooth as spun silk. I knew Iyumi watched her sidelong, while pretending not to. Yet, every few minutes Her Highness’s blue eyes slid sideways, only to stare straight ahead between her blue’s ears. Then the cycle began again. While I inwardly grinned, amused, I pretended not to notice. Long had I grown a thick skin toward others’ envy. Along with his lands and titles, I inherited my father’s prestigious horse herd when he died. Kiera’s dam colicked and died soon after her birth, leaving me to bottle-feed the four-day old filly.
As she grew older, I often changed myself into a horse and ran side by side with her. Over the open fields and bright sunshine, we bucked, nipped, kicked, laughed and played. She nuzzled my neck as I nipped her muzzle, finding joy in one another’s company. Later, as she grew old enough to carry me, I never trained her, per se. I merely explained what I wanted her to do, and she did it.
I constantly received, and turned down, offers to buy her. From the nobility down to the King’s common soldiers, I rejected potential riches and wealthy estates. Cavalry officers promised me the earth for one foal from her. She wasn’t ready for babies, however. When Kiera wanted motherhood, she’d let me know. No stallion was good enough for her, and we both knew it. Until then, she was my mount, my confidante and my best friend.
When I ran away, I listened to her lonely lament in my dreams. She cried for me, refused to eat, and might well have died if not for Malik’s care. I dared not take her with me, for who knew what might happen to her in the wretched state I found myself in. As often as I dared, I winged in to see her, and perched above her stall. Kiera whinnied at me, her tone accusing, as I chirped my apologies. Being the forgiving creature that she was, Kiera all but ran me down when Malik tossed me head first into the royal stables. The bruises left behind by her affection still ached.
I took moments to breathe in the scents of the clean lines of rolling hills, the heather, the green pockets of pine, scrub oak and evergreen trees, and felt refreshed. Northern Bryn’Cairdha was always the most beautiful of the lands. Although fertile and lush, the country’s farmers and ranchers tended to gather further south, closer to the cities and markets. This far north, the climate offered a short growing season and discouraged farms or villages. A few hardy towns thrived here and there, yet our course toward the high, ragged Shin’Eah Mountains distanced us from human settlements.
Iyumi refused to divulge the child’s exact location, saying only it lay deep within the ragged peaks of the Shin’Eah. Unfortunately, those mountains bordered our land from Raithin Mawr, offering its protections from those rampaging idiots. Raithin Mawr claimed parts of those rocky borderlands, and neither country wish to contest a few peaks and steep cliffs where only hardy tundra and nimble sheep thrived. However, it was too close to our enemy for anyone’s comfort, mine included.
When Malik asked what species the child was, she replied tartly, “That’s on a need to know basis, Commander. And you don’t need to know.”
I put my hand on his arm to still him when he bristled, preparing a sharp retort. I shook my head slightly, my eyes lowered, silently asking him to back off. His anger quivered on the crisp air, his dark eyes furious. Only his respect for the King’s daughter and my hand prevented him from ripping a new orifice in her slender body.
Peace prevailed throughout the rest of the day, although very few of us spoke at all. Malik stalked in front, his bow in his left hand, his tangled black locks hanging half down his bare shoulders. His black hide rippled under the bright sun, his quarters bunched under him as his hooves slid and skipped over the rocky terrain. I rode beside Iyumi, as ordered, my hands free of reins or weapons. Aderyn followed behind the blue’s charcoal tail, tripping over the stones in her favorite form: a deer. Sky Dancer tried hard to maintain an even speed, but we travelled far too slowly for her tremendous wingspan. Forced to continually fly past and circle back to stay with us, she constantly flew low overhead, time and again.
Shading my eyes, I tilted my head back to view Grey Mist circling high overhead. There was no sign of Valcan, though he must be up there somewhere. A quiver of misgiving shivered down my gut. That pair flew way too high in case of trouble. I didn’t like it.
Once again, Sky Dancer blew over our heads and swept my hair into my eyes. The wind of her passage sent Kiera’s mane flying and Iyumi’s silver locks into her mouth. Iyumi scowled, her fair lips parted in disgusted annoyance as she once more dragged her hair from her face. “I swear I’m –”
“Protected, Your Highness?” I asked, my humor rising. “Of course you are. The Lieutenant merely seeks to keep your royal skin safe in these wild lands.”
Iyumi scowled dangerously. “Don’t you dare put words in my mouth, Captain Vanyar.”
“Why, Princess –”
Malik’s stern warning halted whatever amused riposte I might have uttered. “Bite it, Captain,” he ordered without turning his head.
I sighed. “Yes, sir.”
Mid-afternoon evolved into late afternoon. The breeze freshened and lowered the summer temperature by several notches. I smelled rain on its wings, as Iyumi shivered and tried to hide it. A storm approached, casting the tall peaks of the Shin’Eah in clouds of swirling mist. Grey crept downward over their shoulders as thunder rumbled in the dim distance. Over the past hour, the terrain slowly rose, cliffs of rocks rising high above and below us as we wended our way amid them. Pockets of birch, alder, evergreen and oak trees slowly vanished, leaving behind only twisted pines, gnarled scrub oak and the ever-present heather.
Gaear blew in, his eagle’s wings wide as he circled low over Malik’s head. Malik paused, gazing up, as Iyumi reined in her blue stallion and Kiera halted beside him. Behind us, Aderyn nibbled on the heather, her white tail flipping back and forth.
“Report, Lieutenant.”
Gaear tried to salute with his right wing and almost fell from the sky. �
��All is well, my Captain,” he said, his eagle’s voice high-pitched. “But I can’t find Lieutenant Dusan.”
I froze. Sky Dancer landed to all four feet beside Kiera and hissed, her lion tail lashing. She furled her wings over her shoulders and stalked a few paces away, her beak parted, her raptor’s eyes watching the hills above us.
“Pray explain ‘can’t find’,” Malik said, his tone as cold as the blood in my veins.
“Corporals Edryd and Alain ride to the west and east, pacing you,” Gaear said, back-winging to land on a nearby boulder, his yellow talons clinging to the rock. “Yet, I’ve seen nothing of Dusan or his horse. It’s as though they’ve vanished.”
“And the others?”
“Lieutenants Padraig and Edara are but a mile to the front, as Lieutenants Moon Whisperer and Kasi fly a mile or so south of this location.”
I knew Grey Mist and Valcan flew high, too high, above in case of trouble. The storm blew in quickly, yet they hadn’t dropped below its lower levels as regulations demanded. Thus, they couldn’t see us, nor the enemies whom I knew were somewhere close by. The stiffened hairs on my neck told me so, and they’ve never lied to me yet.
“Get them back,” I said.
“What?”
“Get them back here, you fool,” I snarled, Kiera prancing sideways. “Call them in – now!”
My voice cracked like a whip and Gaear obeyed. Launching himself into the air with a scream, his eagle’s wings scrambled for altitude. He didn’t bother to circle, but clawed for every rod of height, his wings straining. In perhaps his only wisdom, Gaear flew north – toward Padraig and Edara – first.
“Van –” Malik began.
I ignored him. My sword in my hand, the saliva in my mouth dried to dust as I examined the terrain. Taking the easiest way up the steep incline, we chose a wide yet shallow ravine lined with heavy rock and thickets of scrub oak. Above us, on our left, yet another rocky hedgerow formation bristled like an old man’s spiked eyebrow. Another one similar lay to our right and slightly ahead of us. A narrow line of twisted trees with stiff branches separated us from them. Swiveling on Kiera’s rump, my heart all but stopped in my chest. We had just wended our way past yet another rocky wall, as innocent and blithe as moon-calved lovers on the third date.
The Unforgiven Page 23
