Strange Attractors (49 page)

He’s following your orders, Rowan,
Scylla purred in his mind.
Clearly he has something to communicate but you banned him from mind speech while scouting, remember?

There could be Corsanon priestesses about. They would hear.

With his mind shield ability?

Scylla, I can’t believe you defend him.

I tell the truth. And I like Teg.
She ran ahead, leaping over a fallen log. They were heading south, skirting the foothills of the northern Prieta range, hoping to stay out of sight. He’d wanted Kreshkali to fly scout, but she’d had other plans. It would have been nice if she had let him in on them. ‘Whoa, girl.’ The mare’s head shot up and she braced her forelegs, snorting. He caught the Lupin taking off, a flash of black in the corner of his vision. ‘Where in demon’s dark woods are you going now?’

Get out of there, Father! The Corsanons are headed right for you!

He jerked his head skyward.
Rosette?

Ride! Back to the hills!

It couldn’t be Rosette, could it? She was at the cottage, in a Dumarkian Woods far from this one. The mare crow-hopped and he was preoccupied with controlling her for a moment. Then he heard the thunder. It shook the ground like a wave crashing onto the shore. He squinted at the sun. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as far as the horizon. He cursed.

Rolling the mare back on her haunches, he turned westward and headed into the deeper cover of the forest. He signalled his lateral scouts and galloped to the troops, leading them in the new direction. Teg came sprinting up, still in wolf form, matching the speed of the mare as she tore across ground. An’ Lawrence steadied her with a single word and reached out towards Teg. The mare trumpeted.

‘Get up here,’ he yelled over the horse’s challenge.

Teg’s dark eyes lifted towards him and he leapt, morphing into his human form, and grasped the Sword Master’s forearm, swinging into the saddle behind him. The mare shrieked, bucking twice before she galloped on. He patted her neck. She’d take more work, but not bad for a green-broke mare, under the circumstances. What Teg thought of it, he didn’t know. The lad clung to him, shouting in his ear.

‘They were closer than we thought. Hundreds strong. Coming this way at the run.’ Teg’s breath came in panting rasps. ‘If we can hide while they pass, we’ll be behind them all.’

An’ Lawrence nodded. ‘Meet us on the other side of the rise. Get everyone out of sight. Now!’ He pointed towards the grade and promptly assisted Teg’s dismount, pulling him off the mare and leaving him where he hit the ground. It was not a smooth execution, but he
didn’t have time to explain. There were scouts to the north, and he couldn’t risk them getting cut off. He rolled the mare back on her haunches again, heading off to find them.

A little harsh, wasn’t that, Rowan?
Scylla asked.

He can handle it.

Teg nursed his arm, rubbing the bruised bone. What was wrong with that man? He could have simply asked. The Lupin shook his head, then morphed into wolf form and continued to shake his whole body. The grade was steep and he wanted to get up it fast. In the form of a wolf he was quicker but many of the horses were not used to him yet. He stayed wide, morphing back when he got to the summit. Signalling for the captains, he gathered them round, keeping one eye on the troops and the other over the ridge where a cloud of dust advanced.

‘Keep everyone quiet, out of sight. We’ll give them an hour’s lead then double back.’

‘The Sword Master?’

‘He’s catching up our north scouts.’

‘And what about the Corsanons? They’ll have scouts riding flank as well.’

‘Good point. Mind the horses.’

‘And you?’

‘I’ll mind the scouts.’

Rosette panted, her sides heaving. The only sound she could hear was the rush of blood in her head and the pounding of her heart. In wolf form, the landscape took on an eerie feel. She knew that twigs snapped under her feet, wind whipped through the pines, birds called, leaves flew out behind her, but she didn’t hear any of it. Her world was silent, her sense of smell and sight magnified in the absence of sound.

How far, Dray?

Suddenly it seemed like no time had passed since she last ran this way, from the Corsanon fields to the portal near the foothills of Prieta. But this time they were staying under the cover of the trees, as much as was possible.

Across the next creek and two more hills. Nearly there, Maudi.

I thought so. Do you hear them behind us?

A far distance.

Horseback?

Ten or twelve.

Her tongue lolled out and she ran harder.
Nell? Are you near?
There was no answer. They didn’t break stride when they hit the creek, fording it in three bounds.
Straight into the portal when we get there, Dray.

We won’t wait for Nell?

And give the portal away to the Corsanons? If Nell’s not there, it’s straight in.

And if she is there?

Straight in either way.

Nell wasn’t at the portal. Rosette called to her, in case she was overhead, out of view, but there was no answer. When they dropped to a halt below the entrance, two horses reared, the brown one breaking loose and shying away. She morphed, sending out a calming spell to the animals. The riders looked on, one shocked, the other grinning wide.

‘Have you seen Nell?’ she shouted, rushing up. Her voice was loud in her head. She had no idea what the volume was like for them.

Shane said something, mouthing words. It looked affirmative. Clay added something else. His eyes were wide, his face soft. She reached for him, falling into
his arms. ‘I didn’t know what happened to you,’ she whispered.

He hugged her back.

Shane is saying he’s all right too, no worse for all he’s been through, thank you very much for asking. Odd. He doesn’t sound thankful, Maudi.

She pulled away from Clay and clasped her hands around the other man’s neck, planting a kiss on both cheeks and then his lips. ‘I can’t hear.’ She cupped her hands behind her ears, shaking her head.

Shane frowned, pointing at her belly. Clay touched her arm, asking questions, his eyebrows raised. She pretended she didn’t know what they meant.

Maudi? The temple guards? They’re about thirty seconds behind.

‘Into the portal!’ she shouted, pulling away. ‘Bring the horses. I’ll cover the tracks!’

Drayco led the way up the path and into the crevasse. They got the horses through, just in time, and Rosette waved her hand over their tracks below, causing the dust to sweep the ground clean. She caught sight of the guards before she ducked in and hoped they hadn’t spotted her.

Teg ran hard, nose to the ground. In his wolf form, he could cover the distances effortlessly. Almost. He was running on little food and less sleep, keeping the fatigue away with thoughts of his mentor. Meeting back with her, perhaps even…

Teg! Location?
Hotha’s voice jarred him, like a trap door opening beneath his feet.

West of the Corsanon troops. Pursuing the scouts to the north.

Too late, lad.

Too late? It can’t be.

They got through. I don’t know how. They must have temple witches with them.

A glamour?

Couldn’t have. I can smell through any ever made.

Teg knew that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to make the point.
Where are they headed?

Kali’s spotted them, riding straight for Temple Dumarka.

Teg had stopped under a pine grove, scenting the air.
What now?

Report back to An’ Lawrence. We’ll have to deal with the ones in front of us first.

But Dumarka?

Kreshkali’s domain. Turn back.

Teg bristled, spinning around the way he came. He hoped to avoid the hundreds of Corsanon warriors that marched between him and An’ Lawrence. Nose to the ground again, he tore through the woods, hugging the foothills, staying out of sight.

Xane smiled as he jogged along. He loved these woods, the scent of forest loam, sticky pine sap running down the thick trunks, the sound of the wind through the boughs. There was nothing like this in Corsanon. He scratched his head. He’d never been out of Corsanon, until now.
Bizarre.
Why did everything seem so familiar? Like returning to a memory?

The creatures in the well of his mind were climbing again and he used all his focus to push them down. Every time they rose, words and ideas spouted out of his mouth that made onlookers step back. He didn’t blame them. He wanted to step back too. He picked at the wound on his neck before pulling his hand away, chastising himself. It itched like a dog’s belly.

As he rode along the track, the rocking of the saddle soothed his worries. The squeak of leather, the clip-clop of the mare’s animated stride, the smell of the woods, all conspired to relax him in spite of the rising creatures—those figments of his imagination that were desperate to get out.

‘If I let one of you up, just one, will the rest of you leave me alone?’ He heard a roar of voices, a cacophony of sound in his head. He hunched his shoulders and shut his eyes. ‘I guess not.’

Before he could give it any more thought, the mare’s head lifted, her ears pricked forward. He shortened his reins and peered into the distance. ‘What’s that, Rose?’ He pulled the mare to a halt. Ahead, further ahead than he should rightfully be able to see, were riders. Dozens of them coming at the gallop. The one in the lead rode a huge black mare, a warhorse like the ones bred in the Cusca Plains. He was enchanted with her for a moment then shook his head, turning his mare northward at the run. He had to warn Willem, quickly. But when he caught up with Willem and the Stable Master, he saw immediately they were not surprised.

‘You knew they were coming?’

Willem leaned his head towards a group of cloaked riders, temple priestesses who were not with them when they began the march. ‘We got the warning.’

Xane’s brow creased as he took them in. The horses were fresh, run hard to be certain, but not for more than a league. He glanced at their legs. No mud. No dried sweat. Where did they come from?

‘Stay tight, lad. We’re going to let them ride by.’

‘Ride by? We’ll be spotted.’

‘That’s where they come in.’ Again he indicated the cloaked priestesses. They sat their horses like statues, neither women nor beasts moving save the rise and fall
of their breath and the odd swish of a tail. The horses were palominos, golden hides with flaxen manes and tails. As one they turned to look at him. He swallowed; his grey mare tossed her head, pawing the ground.

I know, Rose. I feel the same way. I’d let us run flat out in the other direction but that would only put us face-on with the enemy.

‘They’re weaving a glamour about us, lad. We can’t be seen.’

Suddenly Xane felt the energy of the spell rise up his legs like warm water. It covered his head and his shoulders relaxed. There was a calming spell in there too, he was sure. His mare exhaled, her head dropping, nostrils fluttering. A raptor whistled long and mournful overhead. The priestesses all tracked the bird as it coursed across the sky.

Like a dream he watched the enemy ride past. The warhorses pranced, snapping twigs and leaping over logs, tireless, magnificent. There were mountain riders among them too and, surprisingly, a troop of sword riders on Desertwinds.
Where did they come from?
That breed belonged only to Corsanon. They were never sold or traded outside the borders. He sensed the shock in Willem as well. He imagined he could hear his thoughts.

Demon witches! They’ve been stealing from us all along.

If that was true, it would have been going on for years. These animals were fully trained, mature. It didn’t make sense. It would take decades of theft to breed up a herd like this.

And then he saw the wolves but it was clear no one else did.

He was glad the temple priestesses had put a calming spell in the glamour. He knew these scout horses and
more than a few of them would have bolted, no matter who was saying
whoa
. He was certain Rose would have, but under the glamour her lids were half shut, a hind hoof cocked. He wished he felt as calm. Inside, he wanted to shout—not with fear but with recognition. There was something in the wolf creatures that stirred him deeply. He was not afraid. He was exhilarated. How was that possible?

He hid his thoughts from the priestesses, who could probe his mind. This was crazy. He shouldn’t feel this way. When the riders passed, the glamour dissolved. His mare’s head came up and he barely kept her from slamming into Willem’s mount as she shied. He got her under control and looked to the Stable Master for instructions. He didn’t mention the wolves.

‘You’ll ride with Willem’s lot. Stay close. No wandering.’ He raised his voice so all could hear. ‘We aren’t scouting any more. It’s straight to Dumarka. We’ll settle the temple.’

Xane wasn’t sure what
settle
meant but he had a pretty good idea it wasn’t a friendly activity. His hackles went up. He didn’t want to harm Dumarka. It was inexplicable—it could even get him hanged—but he was dead set against it, just the same.

Rosette kept a hand on Drayco’s neck, smiling up at Clay. It was hard to believe he was alive, and still harder to realise he didn’t remember their time together at Treeon, or on Earth. She had to keep reminding herself that it hadn’t happened to him.

Not yet, anyway, Maudi.

Drayco, what are you saying? Do you think we have to live through all that again?

Not us, but maybe he does.

I hope not.

Why? You both seemed to enjoy it.

She closed her eyes, remembering—picnics under the apple blossoms, late nights in the hot springs, talks by the fireside, wild revelry and dancing at the festivals.
He was a great kisser.