Elvenblood (28 page)

As if the alicorns themselves wouldn
'
t encourage them to do that
? But she nodded her agreement, and a few moments later, sensed that tingling that told her Lorryn was working magic on her.

I
wonder if I could change my own shape, the ears and the eyes anyway, the way I changed my birds
? she thought.
Better not try right now, though. It's probably a very bad idea, with all the other things I'm doing with my magics
. If she lost control over the alicorns—

Best not to add one more ball to the lot she already was juggling.

She looked off to her right, and saw with relief that the sun was near the horizon. It would be time to stop soon.

"We should talk about when we want to leave the alicorns," he called back to her. 'Tonight."

"After I make supper," she replied. She would literally be "making" supper out of the plants they would gather—and she would make some sweet treats to ensure that the alicorns would come back after their hunt.

That was another reason she was so tired. The entire burden of their food supply rested on her slim shoulders, and she had never worked so much magic before this. She'd never realized it would tire her out so much, the more so the farther along they were.

"I wish the alicorns were "enough like hounds that you could get them to bring us something back," he said wistfully.

He was probably as weary of grass-cake and stewed grass as she was.

But—

The recollection of the mare returning one night, with not only blood on her muzzle, but a shred of what could have been
cloth
stuck in her teeth, made her do more than shiver. There had been a hunter on their trail until then, and Rena
had
been wishing that the alicorns could drive him off. Had the mare somehow sensed her wishes and followed through on them in her own way? She didn't know, and probably never would know, but the hunter had certainly disappeared after that night.

"I don't," she said with a shiver. "I don't."

Caellach Gwain surveyed his audience with satisfaction. So far, he had most of the oldest and most senior of the wizards behind him—even those who had not cared to speak out before were more willing to show their true feelings now that Shana was gone.

Caellach only hoped she would stay away forever. Without her egging them on, the youngsters were not so sure of themselves or of their powers. Only her "inner circle" continued in their impudent defiance of authority, and
they
were kept so busy denuding the old Citadel that they had little time for mischief among the others.

"I'll tell you how I've been getting my proper help back," Caellach told the others. "I started with the humans. They're so used to taking orders from anyone that looks even vaguely like an authority that they never once question me, they just go and do what I tell them to." He frowned slightly. "Granted, they're bare children, but even children can pick up after me or fetch my dinner."

"Doesn't anyone ever come looking for them?" ventured one of the others.

Caellach shrugged. "Maybe, but they never come looking in my quarters. I suppose whoever's in charge of these brats must think they're sneaking off to play. I just tell them that they are to say that a wizard had important tasks for them, and that seems to take care of the matter."

He doubted, in the confusion that the new Citadel represented, that anyone had missed the children he borrowed from the work crews. There was a veritable swarm of human and wizard children, and children were of very little use at anything requiring strength or stamina. That left only what he would call "household chores," and why should they not be using their time properly in serving a single master rather than gathering reeds or some other such nonsense?

He said as much, and the other nodded sagely.

"Pick out the frightened ones," he advised, "the ones that try not to be seen, that shrink away into shadows and corners when they get the chance. They're the most tractable, and the least likely to be missed. And think—if they're that shy, we'll be doing them a favor, keeping them away from crowds! Without a doubt, those children need a firm hand, someone to give them specific orders so they don't have to think." He lifted a sardonic eyebrow at one of the others who looked a bit doubtful. "Children should not
think
, anyway. They aren't equipped to think. They should learn, listen, and obey."

"I suppose you're right," the wizard said, a bit doubtfully. "But still—"'

"Oh, don't get sentimental over them, they're only
human"
snapped someone else, before the dissenter could come up with anything concrete to base his objections on. "It's not as if they're ever going to be of any real use to the Citadel except as servants! Better they learn that little fact now, while there's time to train them in their proper place!"

More heads nodded agreement, and the dissenter subsided. Caellach took control of the meeting again.

"That's not the only reason I asked you all here," he said, in a low and confidential tone. "We really need to do something about the state of things here."

"State of things?" one of the oldest quavered indignantly. 'Travesty, you mean! Young brats carrying on as if they were senior—seniors being forced to fetch their own meals and sweep their own floors—" His unsteady voice rose, full of unsteady wrath. "No respect! No proper conduct! No regard for custom!
That's
what's wrong here! I was willing to put up with nonsense while we were out there." He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the mouth of the caverns. "You expect a certain amount of disorganization and slackness when there's no real structure to living, so to speak. But now, now we're living in proper quarters, and things should go back to the way they were! It was good enough for our forebears, by heaven, and it should be good enough for us!"

A rumble of ill-tempered agreement arose from the rest, and Caellach rubbed his hands together with glee. Better and better—the complaint
hadn't
come from him—and they all agreed with it!

But he held up a cautionary hand as the rumble grew louder. "I agree, I agree—but we mustn't be precipitous here!
We
may realize this is what's best for the Citadel and all wizards, but those proud little brats of Lashana's think they know better, and they have the dragons to back them up!"

At the mention of the dragons, the rumble faded into uncertain silence. He hastened to reassure them.

"It isn't impossible to put things right again," he told them firmly. "It is simply going to take time. We must be cautious, and lay our plans with care. Eventually the dragons will become bored with us and find other pastimes. Or—Lashana might not return, and they will go out looking for her. A hundred things could happened to tilt the balance to our side, and we must be ready to act when the time comes, act decisively and quickly."

He had them again, leaning forward, listening to every word he said. He allowed himself a slight smile.

"We must all go and think on these things," he told them. "I will call another meeting in a few days, and I would like to hear your ideas at that point." He met each of their eyes in turn, and got nods, some thoughtful, some determined, from all of them.

That was close enough to a dismissal that they soon drifted out, by ones and twos, some talking and some silent. Caellach waited until they were all gone, struggling to keep his feelings of triumph from showing too plainly on his face.

Now it was all just a matter of time. And when that young pest Lashana
did
return—If she did—she would find things changed, and not to her liking!

Two days later, they reached the plain itself; there was no sign of an alicorn herd, nor of the wizards. Lorryn elected to stay with their mounts as long as possible, and the alicorns themselves dropped abruptly from the fast pace they had set to the normal walking pace of a horse. They no longer hunted at night, and Rena found them eating nothing more sinister than grass and the treats she made for them. It was easier to keep them gentle, too, and between that and the easier pace, she began to recover from the grueling marathon of their escape.

Lorryn was certainly in his element She didn't think she had ever seen him so happy. His hair was a wild mop, his clothing as threadbare as the lowest slave's, and he didn't look
anything
like the cultured elven lord he'd been—but there was a light in his eyes she didn't ever remember seeing before. "I'm not sure if I care whether we find the wizards now or not," he called back to her, on the third afternoon of riding through the waist-high grasses. "I could live like this forever. Think of it! As free as a hawk in the sky, no one telling us where to go or what to do—"

"That's all very well now," she said, a bit tartly, thinking about her uncomfortable couches on the cold ground, "but what about winter? It's going to get very cold down here, once winter comes, and I don't fancy huddling against an alicorn who's turned predator for warmth all night."

Lorryn laughed at her, and shook his head. "You're too practical, Rena. Too practical for romance, anyway."

"I can be romantic!" she protested, stung. "I just like my romance with comfort attached to it!"

"But would it be romance then?" he countered. "What's romance without—" He suddenly sat straight up, choking off his words, as they mounted their ridge and saw what was on the next one.

In the next moment, Rena saw what had alarmed him.

Sitting on what
looked
like very fierce cattle, ranged along the top of the next ridge, were a dozen people. Humans, she thought, but not like any other she had ever seen. They were so dark of skin as to be black, wearing brightly colored head-cloths and loose trousers, and they were armed with long, iron-tipped spears.

"Ancestors!" Lorryn breathed. "Grel-riders? It must be! I don't know of any other race with skin that color!"

"You know who these people are?" she whispered, as the
alicorn
s came to a dead halt and stood stock-still, looking across at the six bulls and snorting a challenge.

"I studied them, when I was trying to study the wizards and the human cultures that used to be here," he muttered back, his face betraying only excitement "I even learned the language; there was a spell of tongues on one of the books that gave me nine different human languages. I never thought I'd get a chance to use one, though—"

He broke off, and waved solemnly at the riders above them, calling to them in a peculiar liquid tongue.

"I just told them that we're from one of the extinct tribes that
used
to be allies of theirs," he said in a hasty aside to Rena. "I hope that works—according to the histories, they're notoriously—"

One of the figures above them rode his mount a little ahead of the line and called something back. Lorryn's face lit up. "It worked!" he exclaimed. "He just gave us the safe conduct to ride up to meet them!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, shivering with fear, and trying not to show it.

"We don't exactly have a choice," he countered. "They've already seen us, and if we turned and ran, they'd be after us in no time. They
have
to be better trackers than we are, so sooner or later they'd find us. No, we need to present ourselves as being too strong to harass." He reached out as she rode her mare up beside him and patted her hand. "I know how you feel; it's a good thing I'm mounted or I don't think my legs would hold me up. But we have to act as if we belong here, that we're their equals in strength." He gave her a quick smile. "Come on.
Look
brave. Think of Gildor."

That made her smile weakly, and he gave her hand another quick pat. "You can tame alicorns, remember? You have been the one keeping us fed and warm. You're clever and brave, and I wouldn't want anyone else at my side in this. Let's go."

As they rode up the ridge toward the waiting riders, the bulls began to sidle sideways and back up, rolling their eyes with fear. The alicorns raised their heads and stared straight at the bulls, lifting their lips to show their fangs, and stepping like dressage-trained horses as they walked up the slope. The nearer she and Lorryn got to the dark people, the more the bulls reacted with fear, until all the riders had to dismount and hold the heads of their animals to keep them from bolting.

Lorryn stopped at that, and called out again to the rider who was apparently the leader.

"I've told him that I don't want to frighten his mounts anymore," he translated for Rena, as the leader of the group nodded, and replied. "He thanks me, and tells me that the Corn People—that's who we're supposed to be from—are wise. He says that they have heard of alicorns in legend, and that they have seen enough of them since they began their search for grazing and sweet water to know that they are terrible enemies. He wants to know how we tamed them." He laughed, softly. "We've impressed him, I think, little sister!"

Indeed, the man looked impressed, holding tightly to the halter of his bull, which tossed its head and tried to fight him. Lorryn called something back, and the man transferred his admiring gaze from Lorryn to Rena.

"Smile and wave, Rena," he whispered. "I told him you were the one who tamed them."

She smiled, a little woodenly, and waved.

"Can you hold both beasts here?" he asked her, after the man spoke several more sentences. "I think we have a rare opportunity here.

She wasn't certain what he meant by that, but she knew that if she dismounted and stood with a hand on the shoulder of each of the beasts, they wouldn't move. "I can," she told him. "But I wish you'd give me their language.
You
are the one with the spell of tongues."

"Later," he promised, and slid off the back of his alicorn to approach the leader of the dark people. She dismounted before the stallion could react to his absence, and steadied both beasts while Lorryn and the dark man spoke together. She began to lose her fear, and then her nervousness, when she realized that the man's posture and tone of voice were both not only friendly, but respectful. And whenever he looked hi her direction, or indicated her, that respect only deepened.