The Silence of Medair

"I am sorry to intrude, Kerali," she apologised. "My mare shied and I made poor work of handling her."

"You’ve hurt your ankle." Avahn slid from his saddle to lend the woman a hand.

"Has your horse gone far?" Medair asked, scanning the area carefully.

"Straight back to her stall, no doubt," the woman sighed, leaning on Avahn gratefully. "I don’t want to spoil your day, and I know well enough that it will be out of your way, but–"

"It would be mannerless indeed if we didn’t take you home," Avahn interrupted. "Do you think you can ride pillion with me?"

Smiling her gratitude, the young woman professed her willingness to try, and Avahn carefully lifted her up behind his saddle. Medair had been thinking that he was not immune to a pretty face, and so was surprised when he shot a frowning glance of warning in her direction, necessarily brief because his passenger was in a position to notice. Not certain what had made him wary, Medair again searched the hillside, seeing no sign of lurkers.

The woman, whose name was Melani, directed them to an outlying farming settlement among the northern hills. Not knowing what else to do, Medair took the precaution of sliding her satchel off her back to where she could more easily reach its contents.

Melani continued to apologise prettily. It seemed to Medair that the encounter had been arranged so the woman could have an opportunity to flirt with the heir to the Dahlein. Certainly the way Melani pressed against Avahn, arms wrapped firmly about his waist, suggested only a bedroom ambush. But, Medair told herself, if that was so Melani would surely have tried to separate Avahn from Medair.

They rode along the edge of the eastern hills of Finrathlar, then followed a winding stream, glittering in the Summer sun between two of the massed hills to the north. Medair noted deep ruts in the road, and the hoof-prints of a number of horses. Recent, but hardly unusual. The north of the valley was given over to farmland.

She felt a trickle of magic escaping nearby, and looked at Avahn, who inclined his head a fraction in return. He had been the caster then. A defensive spell or perhaps a wend-whisper, sending a message on the wind? It had not been anything which released a huge amount of power. She slipped a hand into her satchel, pulling out a ring to slide into her pocket.

A solid farmhouse came into view. "My mother should be home by now," Melani said, smiling with apparent relief. Medair began to wonder if they had been altogether too suspicious as a grey-haired woman lifted her head from where she toiled among rows of vegetables. She gave a soft cry of distress and hurried over.

"Oh, Melani! Whatever have you done to yourself?"

"Thrammit tossed me, Mama. Has she come back?"

"That cursed mare! Too skittish for her own good." The woman drew Melani down into her supporting arms, made a practiced inspection, then smiled up at Avahn. "Kerin, how can I thank you?"

"We did very little, Kel," Avahn replied as he dismounted. "The mare has not returned?"

Shaking her head, the woman steadied her daughter as she took a limping step. "No, I’ve not seen her." She looked distractedly at Medair, then returned to Avahn. "My other daughter will be back in a decem. If the mare hasn’t returned by then, she’ll collect the herders together and mount a search. Likely the creature’s gone back to the stables where she was bred." She turned pleading eyes on the handsome heir to the Dahlein. "Kerin, if it’s not too much trouble…"

Avahn obligingly scooped Melani into his arms, hefting her with an ease only an Ibisian could manage. Medair wondered if he would drop her at the first sign of danger. Gathering the reins of their horses, she looped them around the posts of the garden fence. It gave her a chance to stare into the hills for any sign of movement. Nothing. With a final glance about, she followed the other three inside.

Melani was directing Avahn upstairs, and her mother ushered Medair left into a kitchen. "How can I thank you and the Kerin for going so far out of your way for my daughter, Keris?" she asked. "All because she’s overfond of that pretty mare’s looks, no matter the creature’s temperament. I hope she’s not inconvenienced you too greatly?"

"She has given us a chance to see another part of Finrathlar, Kel–"

"–las Raithen," the woman continued, smiling. "It is very good of you."

"Do you live here alone, Kel las Raithen?" Medair asked, since she saw no sign of any others, though the house was large enough.

The woman laughed. "AlKier, no! Besides my daughters, we’ve Miasa in the main building, and a half-dozen herders crowding out the back house. Babies the lot of them. They call this Orphans' Farm because I’ve taken so many in, but they make good herders if you start them young enough. Some say I’m a fool to trust urchins, but with fair treatment, I get fair workers. Keridahl Galen’s wisdom."