Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar) Page 10

  The small group crossed the court in silence, and Elana felt the stillness in her bones. Sorrow… bitterness had always been sharp in the Old Mistress when the Maltar’s name surfaced, but over the years she had kept her own counsel. Even Elana had not known of this grudging secret, only of the anguished amarin.

  Elana swallowed the surging anger before it slipped past her and touched the others of the party. The Mistress had seen her through too much — separations, growing pains — there was little she would not hate that had painted the aged one’s life with so much pain.

  She moved to her horse then, letting her hands distract her heart as she secured her pack amidst the bundled food supplies. She finished and turned to Di’nay’s; her tension finally had begun to ease a little.

  I will miss her, Elana admitted and an awareness of the other’s amarin followed closely — the Mistress would miss her too. She and the old woman had been inseparable for so many seasons that she could not gauge the void from leaving now. But the time for leaving had been coming for a long while. They both had known it.

  Blindly she mounted the blood bay. She took comfort from the warm, solid feel of the mare beneath her. Leggings and she went way back too.

  She glanced quickly at the black gelding that tossed his head in impatience. He was a graceful but broad-chested horse of seventeen hands. Restlessly he shifted at the Amazon’s approach, and Elana had to resist the impulse to soothe his wariness with her Sight. He needed to meet his new rider on his own terms.

  The Amazon leapt easily into the stirrup-less saddle, sliding her sword sheath and bow into a more comfortable angle at her right knee. When her calves closed firmly about the horse, the animal chaffed less. Elana noted that the confidence in Di’nay’s seat and her light touch on the bit were effectively calming the black even more quickly than she would have hoped.

  “Ona — ”

  She glanced down quickly. “Yes, Mistress?”

  Hands reached high to cover Elana’s own as they lay on the cloth pommel. The smooth thinness of the old skin felt glossy to Elana, and again she was amazed at the age of this woman. Often she forgot that there were generations between them.

  The Old Mistress looked upon her favorite proudly. “Care for yourself — as well as your proud Amazon.”

  A smile hovered on her lips. “I will.”

  “The Mother will ride your winds. Take heed of Her signs.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her throat tight. “And may you walk with Her blessings.”

  “May we both.” The stiff fingers patted her hands with a final tap, and the Old Mistress walked back to the Council Speaker.

  “Take this Amazon away, Ona!” the stern voice crackled. “Or this young chatterbox will have you here ’til dawn breaks!”

  With a nod Elana reined Leggings for the bridge and the open gate beyond.

  Diana brought her horse nearer the robed figure and leaned low. “I will ponder on how to be compassionate, Mistress.”

  “May Her blessings ride your winds, Amazon.”

  “And may they walk with you, Mistress.” Diana’s heels closed and the black steed leapt forward. Cantering hooves rang in the stillness as the two crossed the bridge. Above, the midnight moon began to wind her way down into the slumbering cliffs.

  † † †

  “What was it that the Mistress called you as we left the Keep?” Diana asked quietly as the sun finally began to break through the gray ceiling above them. They’d ridden for nearly half the morning in silence.

  “Ona, you mean?”

  “Anna?” and she pressed the black closer to the bay, straining to hear.

  “Ahh-na,” Elana repeated distinctly. “It is a shortening of Elana, usually reserved for children of two or three — or for slaves.”

  “Ona,” Diana glanced sideways, thinking she certainly looked young enough for the nickname, but in the same moment she saw the woman. “She continues to call you this?”

  “She nearly always has, since I came to the Keep when I was four or more seasons — about age nine by your Imperial reckoning.” The green cloaked shoulders shrugged. “By comparison to her moons, I am still very young.”

  Diana was not reassured, and she fell quiet again. Confidence not born of experience was something Diana had learned to be wary of. But perhaps that wasn’t being fair to Elana. If she had been at the Keep since she was four seasons, then that roughly figured to be eight or so tenmoons of training. It certainly outdid Diana’s own brief months of instruction before the Empire dropped her here on Aggar. Inwardly she sighed, wondering if it was Elana’s youth or her own age that she was being so sensitive about.

  The birds and prippers darted about noisily in the trees above, and Elana drew her thoughts away from Di’nay’s brooding amarin, concentrating on the riders they followed. She suspected the men would set camp early today — beyond the Council’s borders most likely, as the man she’d seen had obviously been riding for the better part of the night. She and Diana would need to be careful or they’d overtake the messenger’s party before it arrived at its destination. Her glance dropped to the packed ground under hoof and the men’s tracks.

  “Still there?” Diana asked suddenly, attempting a smile.

  Recognizing the peace offering, Elana smiled and said, “Yes.”

  Hesitating, Diana cast about for something else to say as they rode on. “Your horses, at the Keep, they’re a fine lot. Do you breed them yourselves?”

  “Some. The majority we trade for. But these are home bred.”

  “Does the black have a name? Or is that beneath the Council’s stables?”

  Elana chuckled at that. “He’s called Nightstorm. This mare is Leggings.”

  “For her black stockings, uh-hm. Is Nightstorm foreboding of something I should know about? He’s not scared of shadows? Or shy of thunder, is he?” Diana had been on several idiosyncratic beasts in the past, and despite her levity, her concern was genuine.

  “He certainly is not frightened by me nor by storms.” Elana laughed, and the Amazon blinked at the reminder of Elana’s Council-imposed role. “He was born in a cloudburst at midnight, that is all.”

  “He seems well trained.” Diana ran a gloved hand admiringly over the arched neck before her. “Spirited, but very workable.”

  “I thank you.” Elana was unexpectedly shy and pleased at the compliment until she felt Di’nay’s caution.

  “Are you saying you trained him?”

  “Yes. Leggings too, but she’s special.” Elana stroked the glossy red hide of her mare’s neck. “I raised her, despite her mother’s death. No one could coax her to feed, but then I am the only Blue Sight this generation who has the animal sense. For me… I remember her trying to suckle off my fingers as often as from the bottles.”

  For a long moment Diana was silent. She was finding that she didn’t like that she had assumed to know so much about Elana’s abilities. When she spoke again her voice had grown softer. “You said he was gelded. I would have thought he’d make good breeding stock?”

  “We could not afford another stallion exclusively for breeding, and I couldn’t get anyone else near enough to ride him.” Elana’s voice lowered with the pain of regrets. “There was a day, I wasn’t there — he killed one man and nearly a second.”

  Diana nodded in sympathy, but she felt a sudden panic that the life lost might have been Elana’s own. Then she reminded herself rationally, the accident had happened because Elana hadn’t been there, not because of carelessness; there were a great many things that one could learn in twenty-four years. Still, her picture of this quiet woman did not mesh with the image of her breaking violent horses to saddle.

  Diana was beginning to believe that there were a great many things about Elana that could be surprising.

  † † †

  “We should camp here,” Elana announced quietly.

  Diana looked up from refilling her waterskin. Nightstorm snorted playfully, blowing bubbles in the small creek besid
e her. Elana’s back was to her, standing at the clearing’s edge; her eyes searched the trees along the road ahead.

  “We’ve still three hours of daylight, at least,” Diana said.

  “They have been stopping too frequently. There is only one more place to stop this side of the river’s gorge, and only one within short reach across it. If they are wary of followers, they will surely leave a scout at the next point — if they don’t decide to actually camp there. They did travel overly hard yesterday. They may have no errand for returning home as quickly.”

  “If they’re going home,” Diana muttered. “All right then. We camp here.” She slipped her packs and saddle bags to the ground, but long bow and sword stayed. “You set things up. I’ll ride ahead and see if I can get a look at the next site. If the three of them do decide to stop before the gorge, we can be certain one of them will be circling back later. It would be nice to know if we should post watch or not.”

  “Beneath my Sight I could….” Elana faltered in the face of Di’nay’s sudden coldness. The Amazon’s trust was not so easily given, she reminded herself.

  “I would rather do this myself.”

  Elana nodded awkwardly. “Certainly. I’ll see if I can catch us something for eventide.”

  Diana mounted quickly, frowning as she realized Elana had been hurt by her curtness. She toyed with the reins, hesitating uncomfortably.

  “I understand, Di’nay,” Elana murmured gently.

  Diana sighed. She didn’t know if that made it better or not. She glanced down at Elana. “I’ll be back by darkfall.” Her heels closed and Nightstorm jumped forward into a canter.

  The lifestone warmed faintly beneath the black leather. With a sad smile, Elana raised her arm in Di’nay’s direction as the Amazon disappeared. The rhythmic pulse of the stone steadied in perfect harmonics. This was lifebonding — to the person and not the cause. She could only wish Di’nay would come to feel the same.

  † † †

  With concern Diana approached the campsite where she had left Elana. Even across the short distance between road and clearing, there was no flickering fire to call welcome. She drew Nightstorm to a cautious halt.

  “Here.”

  Diana started at the soft voice and suddenly the dimness lifted.

  A small blaze was cheerfully dancing within the fire pit where a pair of small fowl were skewered and roasting. The bedding was spread beneath the frayed roof of the three-sided traveler’s hut, and Leggings was munching contentedly near the stream. Elana rose slowly from the fireside, brushing her hands clean along the sides of her breeches.

  Diana slipped out of the saddle, grimly deciding that there was more to this Blue Sighted gift than she wished to know.

  “You found them.”

  “A single scout. The others moved beyond the gorge.” She shrugged and stalked past the fire with the gelding in tow. “The man was drinking rather heavily. I doubt we need worry about him riding out again tonight.”

  Elana nodded, but she lingered instead of turning back to the fire, watching Di’nay unsaddle Nightstorm. The strength and grace of the Amazon’s movements caught the breath in her throat, and Elana remembered the countless nights she had glimpsed those same hands — those same movements in her dreamspun visions.

  “Eventide smells good,” Diana offered a sudden peace with a faint grin. “What did you catch?”

  “Jumier — a fairly plump set.”

  “My birds never smelled like that.” Diana took a brush to Nightstorm’s dusty hide and the animal grunted with appreciation. “Mine barely seemed edible.”

  Elana laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Will it be ready soon? Or do I have time to wash a little when I’m through here?”

  “You have time.” Elana felt her stomach flutter at the thought of Di’nay bathing.

  “Good.” Diana glanced at the still figure again and paused in grooming the black.

  Elana attempted to gather herself together. “You said last night that — that you like fire brewed tea. I thought you might have your own? Or — there is the blend from the Keep’s stocks?”

  Diana’s smallest saddle bag still lay next to the fire. The odd knot she habitually used to tie it was in place; the bag had not been touched. It surprised her to realize that she had not really believed it would be disturbed. She smiled with a sudden warmth and answered, “I have my own. I’ll fetch it when I’m through, Elana.”

  Elana turned back to Di’nay.

  “I do not expect you to do all the cooking, whatever the Council’s instructions.”

  “Our personal arrangements are left to us.” Elana shrugged, unconcerned. “But it is something I enjoy doing that — ”

  “I would not enjoy having you do it for me.”

  For a long moment, Elana faced the Amazon’s stony grimness. Then suddenly Di’nay’s own words came back to mind, and Elana found herself prompted by a faint bit of humor. “What you say might be taken as a threat, Di’nay, if your jumier is barely edible?”

  Despite herself, Diana found she was laughing. “I suppose I could be content with the wash-up.”

  “All right.” With a tip of her head, Elana moved away slowly, savoring the growing warmth in the Amazon’s amarin. She felt as if she’d been given a present.

  † † †

  Chapter Ten

  “Is breakfast mobile?” Diana asked, drawing near the fire. The horses had been saddled and packed except for the last of Elana’s cookery.

  “Very.” The woman passed a trio of leaf-wrapped bundles to the Amazon before tipping the small pan of boiling water into the fire.

  “What is it? If I may ask?” Diana sniffed cautiously. Each bundle was about the size of an ear of corn but much softer.

  “Boko.” The suede booted toes kicked at the dirt, burying the coals.

  “Which is?” Diana could not suppress a smile. At times she was reminded just how new she was to this world and just how much she could never hope to learn.

  Elana smiled faintly, taking her own breakfast and the pan in hand. “It is a little this, a little that, depending on what’s available — wrapped in a steamed torin leaf. Did you like the stuffing last night?”

  “Hm-hmm.”

  “This is similar.”

  “Do I peel it or eat it whole?”

  “Whole.” She laced her saddlebag closed, and they mounted and left as the sun finally found a crack somewhere in the eastern wall of the mountains and the sky lightened gray over the treetops. There was slim chance of the clouds breaking up as the day progressed.

  Diana munched on her breakfast, wondering if it was going to rain. It was too early in the tenmoon for snow. She tried to be optimistic, but then again, there was always the odd season. The young woman was being very quiet. That quietness went too well with the image of a Shadow. Diana glanced at Elana again, noticing the single, half-eaten boko and asked, “Is that going to be enough for you?”

  Elana dipped her head absently. Her concentration was focused outward, seeking confirmation that the scout had also broken camp early.

  Let her take care of herself, Diana reminded herself grumpily. Just because the people of Aggar had a higher metabolism didn’t mean they ate more. The woman probably didn’t ever eat much breakfast.

  “Something is wrong…!” Elana kicked her mare into a gallop.

  Alarmed, Diana reined Nightstorm in, keeping him to a trot as he followed. Her gloved hand reached for the long sword at her knee and slid it soundlessly from the sheath. She swallowed the curse on her lips. She had no idea what that old woman had been teaching this child, but it obviously did not include caution.

  As the road turned sharply right Diana’s ears strained to decipher the unusual from the morning sounds. Nightstorm stepped quietly and refrained from tossing his head. Gingerly she edged him around the corner.

  Before her the road opened onto a dusty clearing where she had spied the scout last night. At the far end there was
a rushing stream whose faint roar hinted that further on it dropped into the gorge to join the main river.

  But the clearing had changed since last night’s visit. The sparse grass had become scarred black from a careless fire; it still smoldered in places. The wicked pattern looked like the gnarled veins on the back of a dry leaf. With a frown Diana urged her mount forward. What in Fates’ Cellars had happened?

  Near the stream, partly hidden by higher brush she spotted Leggings. The blood bay was motionless, her head low. Nightstorm approached, carefully stepping clear of the black soot, and the mare looked up quickly, snorting in recognition. There was a stench here that made Diana’s stomach tighten.

  Elana was kneeling at the stream’s bank. Her body was rigidly still amidst the thick brambles. Diana swallowed heavily as her horse halted. Almost hidden by the woman’s frame, an animal corpse, baked black with a shard of white bone, lay caught between branch and rock, almost submerged by the laughing waters. The creature had been fifteen, maybe twenty pounds. What kind of animal it had been was an unanswerable question.

  A rasping hiss startled her, and she glanced back to Elana’s bent figure.

  “Put your sword away,” Elana murmured steadily. The Amazon hesitated and Elana said, “Please, Di’nay. You are frightening her.”

  Mutely, Diana complied.

  “Thank you.” Slowly but smoothly Elana stood. With equal deliberateness she turned and Diana’s breath caught. In Elana’s arms was a cat-like beast, but winged. Its golden body was half-held by, half-clutching to its rescuer. Small ears lay flat as the wide chest heaved with its panting; fine furred wings opened partially, hiding Elana’s shoulder and half of the beast itself. A long, twitching tail snaked out from beneath the cloaking wingspan. The emerald-lime eyes fastened warningly on the black steed and rider, and Diana forced a steadying breath. Those eyes reminded her of another pair; they held the same intensity in a different color.

  “Isn’t that an eitteh?” Diana whispered faintly. “A men-cat?”