Herd Mistress (In Deception's Shadow Book 2) (20 page)

Once at the river, Sorsha paused only long enough to
unlace and shuck her leather vest before cautiously wading in. Shadowdancer, sniffing
at himself, realized he could use some sweetening up, and followed her into
deeper waters.

* * * *

Shadowdancer watched as Sorsha swung a foreleg,
striking the water playfully as she waited in the shallows for him to finish
his own bath. The play probably helped distract her from all the questions she
must have wanted to ask. He knew he had many unanswered questions of his own,
and no one to answer them. It was his own fault for departing the Oracle so
quickly.

When he came up behind her, she whirled back toward
him. “You never answered my question about whether I met muster. Is it because
I’m the ugliest, most poorly conformed, sway-backed old nag you’ve ever laid
eyes on?” Sorsha twisted to look over her shoulder with a little shrug. “It’s
hard to tell from this angle.”

“You’re beautiful.” The words spilled from him without
thought or conscious decision on his part. But he did not want to take them
back.

“Oh…” she let her words trickle off into silence, and
then seemed to change her mind a moment later. “You’re sure you’re not just
saying that to make up for the earlier comment about being a monster?”

Shadowdancer pushed his dripping hair out of his eyes.
Catching her under the chin he lifted her face up to meet his gaze. He pressed
kisses to both cheeks, her nose, and gave a quick caress of lips. He placed
another kiss on her forehead. “You’re still my fierce, beautiful Herd Mistress;
the mistress of my heart.”

She tilted her face up to him, her expression
transmitting her joy. “It doesn’t matter to me what shape you wear, either.”

Her words speared deep into his heart, and he wrapped
both arms around her shoulders, hugging her to him, while he mumbled softly
into her ear. For the first time since he’d awaken in the Oracle’s pool, he was
no longer quite so frightened. This was Sorsha. Their souls had been entwined
through many lifetimes—the Oracle’s words had even given credence to what
Shadowdancer had always sensed. She loved him when he was still a Santhyrian,
she loved him when he was a man. Of course, she would still love him even when
he was the Oracle’s Harbinger.

Hand in hand, they made their way back to
Shadowdancer’s small camp.

“Now what?”

In the wake of her question, she heard Shadowdancer
shift position. Blinded by the light of the camp fire, she couldn’t make out
his expression, but he’d been abnormally quiet since they’d eaten their dinner
of cooked oats and greens. Strangely—or perhaps not so strangely—she found
leafy greens far more appealing than she used to.

“You’re thinking again, I can tell.” She swished her
tail against her flank for the sheer novelty of it.

“Actually, I’ve been in contact with my father.”

Sorsha cursed herself silently for not figuring that
out sooner. The Oracle had healed Shadowdancer’s Larnkin; he’d now be able to
communicate with his Herd, with his family. What had he revealed to them, she wondered?
“Sorry if I interrupted.”

“You didn’t. I finished a while ago.” He sighed, and
looked into the fire. “I was just watching you.” He paused again, and then
continued with another slight hesitation. “You’re beautiful.”

“Well, myself, I’m still warming to my horse’s ass.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t
referring to physical beauty. Though, you do make a lovely Harbinger.” He
chuckled again. “You have a bright soul and a caring heart—they transcend
worldly beauty.”

Heat bloomed on her cheeks. Never comfortable with
compliments, Sorsha sought another topic. “What are we going to do about
Trensler? He’ll gain a whole day’s ride while you wait for me to recover.”

“I doubt Trensler has made it that far ahead of us.
The way he and his men treat their horses, if he doesn’t allow them rest, the
poor beasts will begin to drop out from under them. No matter how much
Trensler’s master is salivating for the shattered Falcon Staff, Trensler is
shrewd enough not to strand his men out here, deep in our territory. My father
and the Lupwyn Queen are gathering an army, and will meet us outside the
temple.” Shadowdancer nodded his head toward the Oracle’s gift. Both long bows
and the two quivers full of arrows rested against a tree trunk within easy
reach should they need them. “I passed on the information about long range
weapons and non-magical fire. They’ll avoid hand-to-hand combat if they can.”

“Then we just have to get there before Trensler and
get the Staff’s remains safely away.” Sorsha reached out for one of the
Oracle’s unique arrows, still in awe that the liquid-filled shafts retained
perfect balance. She twirled it once, and then brushed her thumb over the black
arrowhead with its strange bead of glass at the center. All it took to ignite
was the smallest trickle of magic and the command to burn. Then the non-magical
fuel within the shaft would leak out and incinerate the intended target.

“Yes, but you need rest first. Tomorrow we’ll head out
at first light. By late afternoon we should find a trail that leads into the
mountains. There are trails cut high up the slopes. They’re very old, probably
part of a road which led to the temple and surrounding villages long ago. They
were still passable last I travelled them. We should be able to make good time
and outpace Trensler. There are even a few spots along the trail that run along
the uppermost ridge of the mountains. With a short climb to the top, we might
be able to spy upon Trensler’s party.”

Sorsha hated the thought of not knowing exactly how
far ahead Trensler really was, and she saw the wisdom in Shadowdancer’s
reasoning. Besides, Sorsha’s eyesight wasn’t sharp enough to travel on an
overcast night. She sighed and shifted positions, her hooves churning up the
dry, sandy dirt underneath her. Frowning, she silently debated how best to
position herself to sleep. Last night hadn’t been a problem—she’d just
collapsed, exhausted after the candlemarks of learning to use her new legs. At
dawn, she’d awoken in a twisted, uncomfortable position. It had taken almost a
candlemark to work all the kinks out. Idly, she wished for a nice soft bed—a
really big bed, she amended, one with lots of pillows.

Shadowdancer stood and came around the fire. Firelight
danced along his body as he moved. After a moment of turning to find the best
place to sit, he sank onto the ground behind her, close enough for her to feel
the heat of him against her human back and along her Santhyrian body. A
muscular arm wrapped her in a tight embrace and urged her to lean back against
his chest. For once Sorsha didn’t argue and found the position surprisingly
comfortable.

“Sleep,” he whispered into her ear.

“What about you?” Even with the ground sun-baked hard
enough to resemble a slab of rock, her eyelids drooped and she ground her teeth
against a yawn.

“I’ll take first watch. I’ll wake you midway through.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” She yawned again and
snuggled closer, tucking her face against his shoulder. “Swear you’ll wake me
for my turn at watch.”

He raised a hand in surrender. “I swear.”

“Good,” she said, words slurring with exhaustion.

“Sleep well, Herd Mistress.”

* * * *

“Why did they split up here, of all places?” Sorsha
frowned down at the soft dirt, which showed with unmistakable proof that four
riders had broken away from the main group and headed back into the mountains
while the rest of the Acolytes continued on down the length of the valley. She
and Shadowdancer had been following the troop for the better part of the day,
and not once had the Acolytes broken formation until now. “We’re in the middle
of nowhere. What are they after?”

“Us. Magic. Other Santhyrians in the area,”
Shadowdancer replied with a shrug as he stood a little way ahead, studying the
tracks with an expression as tense as Sorsha felt. “And we can’t follow to find
out or the main group might pull ahead of us too far. That might even be their
plan.”

“You think they’re setting traps? But how can they
even know we’re following them?”

“We know they can sense magic. They might be able to
sense us and are laying an ambush. Or it may just be a precaution. They may
even simply be seeking a high vantage point.” Shadowdancer exhaled and started
trotting in the direction the large group had taken. “Unfortunately, while we
don’t have the luxury to investigate what the smaller group seeks, we know the
majority of the Acolytes hunt the Falcon Staff. I’ve sent word to Father about
the Acolytes’ change in tactics.”

“I don’t like it.” Sorsha followed Shadowdancer, her
hooves dragging as she half turned to look behind her. Her hand tightened
around her bow until her knuckles whitened. “Ashayna always said allowing
enemies to out flank you was a good way to make Death’s acquaintance.”

“Your sister is wise.” Shadowdancer halted to allow her
to catch up. “And I like to have enemies ahead and behind no better than you.
But we have no choice. We still have a lot of ground to cover and we can’t risk
the Wild Path—Trensler’s master controls the Wardlen. That leaves us with only
our hooves and our will power.”

“The Oracle made me fast, very fast. Probably for this
very reason. Let me follow them for a candlemark. Once I learn what we are up
against, I’ll hurry back to your side and you will not have lost any ground
against the main group. It’s a sound plan. I’ll stay hidden, and I won’t engage
them in a fight. I swear I won’t take foolish risks. But we must know where the
others are, or risk getting surrounded.”

“You’ll be exhausted from the pace. Have you forgotten
what it took out of you the first time you had to make up ground to chase me
down?”

“Then I’ll hole up somewhere safe to rest for a short
time and find you when I’m able. I can track your progress with our link.”

Shadowdancer snorted, but the sound lacked all humor.
“Why are we even having this conversation? Do you actually think I’m going to
allow
you
, an untrained Herd Mistress
and
the woman I love, to go
off by yourself and intentionally seek out danger.”

“Actually, the old Shadowdancer would certainly not
allow me to go off by myself. But the Oracle’s Harbinger should know his duty is
to protect everyone and not just to one Herd Mistress, even if she is his
beloved.”

Fists clenched, jaw tense, shoulders stiff,
Shadowdancer held himself immobile as he locked gazes with her in challenge.
She didn’t flinch at his attempt to stare holes in her head.

“You know I’m right.” Sorsha sighed. It sounded sad to
her own ears. In truth she didn’t want to be away from Shadowdancer for any
length of time. It would only give him time to get closer to the main group of
Acolytes.

“Yes.” His harsh reply was laced with bitterness, as
if the one word caused him pain.

“I’ll be as quick as I can, and keep in contact using
our mental link.” Sorsha stepped up to him and reached out for a hug.

His arms snaked around her shoulders, dragging her
closer. He didn’t kiss her or rail at her words. He simply rested his forehead
against hers. “Come back to me. Swear it.”

She pressed her lips to his, more promise than
passion. “I swear.”

* * * *

Hunkered down against an outcropping of rock, Sorsha
tried to shield her thoughts and bank the magic of her Larnkin. As hiding
places went, hers was a good one considering she’d been forced to find it in a
hurry when she’d first spotted the dust cloud in the distance. It gave her a
clear view of the trail while hiding her from anyone riding below. She was as
certain as she could be of her safety, but her earlier nervousness came back in
a rush when she heard a sound like distant thunder.

Glancing far down the ravine, where the cloud of dust
rose above the track, Sorsha witnessed the first Acolyte emerge from around a
tight bend. His mount barely slowed at the turn and was already stretched into
that ground eating pace only a Santhyrian could maintain.

Sorsha’s stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot.
She’d found the reason for the Acolytes detour and wished she had remained in
ignorance. Tears slid down her cheeks as she watched another Acolyte astride a
Santhyrian come around the curve in the trail. This Acolyte held a length of
rope and led several other Santhyrians. They’d been tied together with halters
made from finely spun, knotted rope. Two other Acolytes rode into view leading
more captives.

As the first thundered past her hiding place, Sorsha
leaned over for a better look. All her fears were confirmed. Keldar, one of
Trensler’s favorite Acolytes, rode his dull-eyed mount with ease. While she
didn’t know what had been done to kill the Santhyrian’s personality, she knew
danger when she saw it.

The other Acolytes rode underneath her ledge, their
mounts equally as lifeless as the first.

With every fiber of her being, Sorsha wanted to leap
out of her hiding place and attack using her bow and arrows, but common sense
held her back. They were too close; they’d begin feeding before she could kill
them all and she didn’t know how fast it took them to drain a victim. And she’d
promised Shadowdancer.

Sorsha held her place until the enemy was well out of
sight, then she summoned her magic.
“Shadowdancer,”
Sorsha called out in
mindspeech,
“the Acolytes found what they sought.”

“I hear you, beloved. Speak.
”

“They have Santhyrian mounts.”
Sorsha sent him an accompanying image.

Shadowdancer held his silence for several heartbeats.
She could still feel him in her mind, his anger and grief overwhelming. He knew
the small herd the Acolytes had captured and enslaved. They’d sometimes run
with his family herd. The lead mare and stallion were both missing.

At Shadowdancer’s thoughts, a small spark of hope
ignited in Sorsha’s heart, quickly squashed by his next words.
“They are
already dead, probably fed upon. Neither one would let the Acolytes enslave
their herd while they still lived.”

A cold chill raced down Sorsha’s back at the memory of
the Santhyrians with their dull eyes. They had been denied the icy kindness of
a clean death.

“We need a new plan,”
Shadowdancer whispered into her mind.
“If they
continue on their present route, there’s no assurance I’ll get to the temple in
time to get the Staff safely away before the evil ones arrive.”

“But what other choice do we have?”

“There is a shorter route, one which will take
candlemarks off our journey, but makes it far more perilous. There’s a pass
high up in the mountains where rock and snow can shift uneasily, entombing the
unwary.”

“Honestly, that sounds more pleasant than what will
happen if Trensler ever corners us. I’ll risk the rock and snow. Where should I
meet up with you?”

“I see your location in your mind. Backtrack until the
path forks. Follow the fork up higher into the mountains.”
An image of the place appeared in her mind.
“I’ll
meet you there.”

“Shadowdancer, be careful. You have enemies behind as
well as ahead.”

“Our enemy is fast, but I’m faster.”
A hint of pride colored his tone.
“I’ll be with
you again soon.”