The Castle Of Hape. Caves Of Fire And Ice. The Joining Of The Stone

There was no roof to shelter the mare, and Telien could not get her out of the corral, for it was locked and AgWurt carried his keys, always, chained securely to his wrist. She could not bring herself to leave her alone in the dark and rain, had been here since AgWurt went to bed. Perhaps the sound of her voice would help somehow. She thought that a wild creature, injured so, would only want to die. She began to speak, very softly, putting all the love she had into the words; though the words she used meant little for they could not understand one another. Only one who was Seer-born could speak with the winged ones.

“I used to come to watch you. No one knew I did. I came at night, or when they were all away raiding. I found the secret valley. You were the most beautiful of all, like a golden shaft of sun leaping in the sky and then winging to earth, then sweeping up again. I used to watch you drifting on the winds and then grazing in the deep grass, your wings spread out with the pure joy of being! Oh, it was lovely, you were lovely, you were like . . . You will be free again,” she said, her voice trembling. “Your wings will grow whole again, I promise. The muscles are not cut, he would not injure your wings, he wants . . .” She pressed her face against the mare. “I didn’t know. I never knew that AgWurt followed me! I would have died before I let him know!”

The mare moved her nose, shifted her weight as if the pain had increased. “Maybe he followed me the night the darkness came over the valley. You saw it, all of you saw that darkness, you flew away at once. Was AgWurt behind me then, was that the noise I heard and thought was part of the cold dark thing in the sky? What was that dark? Like a great monster, all cloudy and boiling along the top of the hills. So fast, so silent and black. The feel of it, so coldly evil!” She shivered, remembering. “AgWurt must have come back later to set the snares. “I’m glad the others got away, but you . . .” she glanced at the mare’s swollen belly. “You could not. Your colt—I wanted—I wanted to kill AgWurt. I wanted to cut you free but . . .” Shame engulfed Telien again. “I wasn’t brave enough. I thought he would kill me instead, and that he would kill you too.” Her voice shook. “I couldn’t watch him beat you, I turned my face away.”

For some time she was silent. She wished she had the power of Seeing so they could speak with one another. Sometimes, lying in the brush at the edge of the hidden valley, she had known just from their actions what the winged horses must be saying to one another with their silent, loving ways.

AgWurt meant to break this winged horse’s will. He meant to subdue her until she was as nothing, make of her a tame, domestic animal submissive to him. He meant to do the same to her colt, to clip its wings and make it slave to him. He did not dream that that was impossible—to AgWurt nothing was impossible if he put enough force to it. Telien knew such a creature would die first, before she would be slave; that she would likely kill her colt rather than let AgWurt lay hands on it. AgWurt envisioned himself mounted on a winged horse of Eresu; he thought he would be like Ramad of the wolves then, like Jerthon of Carriol. An invincible warrior. AgWurt’s dreams sickened her. “I saw you with your stallion,” Telien said softly. “He is—he is like fire! Like flame in the sky!” To think of a winged colt born to the captivity of AgWurt’s heartbreaking treatment, earthbound and fenced, was unbearable. “I will get you away from him somehow—somehow I will!

The mare shifted then and turned to look straight at her, lifting her head in pride, and Telien knew suddenly and with terrible joy that she did, indeed, understand her. She didn’t know how, without Seer’s skill to link them. She didn’t care how. The wonder of it made her tremble. She said softly, “Meheegan, Meheegan,” for the mare had given her her name. That sudden illuminating knowledge was like honey, like a song within Telien. “You will be free, Meheegan. I promise you will.” She knew she would kill AgWurt if she must and hoped she would be brave enough.

*

Ram pounded again, swearing. Klingen must sleep like a stone. He was chilled through, his temper gone, his wound painful from the long ride, his bandage soaked with rain or blood or both. Beside him Anchorstar was silent, lost in incredible patience. At last Ram lifted the latch and kicked Klingen’s door open, stepping back in case someone else was there. He had no taste for battling some errant band of Herebians in the middle of this cursed wet night.

No candle flared. No voice rang out. He edged in at last, cautiously, felt Anchorstar behind him, found flint and a small taper under his leather cape and struck light.