Chapter Thirteen
THINGS IN THE STABLE WERE TENSE TO START.
The ponies were upset that they could not go with me and that I had no apples.
Hasulett was upset that a dragon was bouncing about my feet, trying to catch mice, and that I had no apples.
Click was upset that I still had the dragon and had no apples.
I vowed to find apples before too much time passed.
Climbing up onto my gelding’s back, I had a brief moment of trying to accustom myself to being upon a normal-sized horse.
Once that passed, I gave the surly gray horse a soft pat and a promise of double the apples if he would ride calmly with the raven and wyrmling. All I got was a stiff sniff.
We rode out of Lettle Creek before the dawn.
I forced myself not to look back or think of the handsome dwarf slumbering like a babe in a tawdry bed.
Tawdry it may have been, but I would have lingered in it for days.
Rough rope bulges pushing through the thin mattress barely a concern.
Click and Jaculi were in the air, kiting on the slowly warming currents, swooping at each other in what looked to be play.
I hoped it was play. I had explained to him that black birds were not on his menu.
Perhaps Click sensed the dragon was no threat.
Or he was simply cocky about his chances of escape should the predator decide to throw my rules to the wind.
By midday, I was in need of a rest. We had ridden hard and fast, so Hasulett was also ready for a break.
Sliding from my saddle with a wince, I led the horse to some low shrubs that he could browse.
A small creek rambled along nearby, burbling up out of the ground, the water icy cold.
I knelt beside the spring, cupped some water up to my nose, and sniffed.
It smelled clean with no mineral scents that some water had that fed out of the mountains.
I filled my waterskin after drinking it dry.
Rising, I stretched, my body reminding me of the fat, hard cock that had been buried deep within the last eve.
What was he doing now? Sitting about the inne perhaps talking with the other Sable Legion crew.
They would head to Celear to be given the rest of their payment with a thanks from Aelir for their services.
The sun was warm today, not hot, no, far from it, for the tundra did seem to keep the chill until one rode further from the Witherhorns, but warm enough that my breath did not fog before me.
Peering into the clear blue sky, I saw a group of geese flying toward Lake Falomar.
My thoughts returned to the lake, to the stables and the ponies, and to the four dwarves who had become friends to me.
One much more than a friend. A lover. Lover.
One that one loved. I did love him. This pain at our leaving only hammered in the knowledge.
My heart ached on par with my sore arse.
I would have to dig about in my pouches to see if I had some herbs to grind into a paste.
Thankfully Smuta was not here, or she would heckle me endlessly for needing a salve for my tender hole.
I would miss her, and the twins, and the tiny steeds.
The arrival of Click and Jaculi pulled me from my sleepy daydreams.
The raven landed atop Hasulett, who was still browsing along, rubbery lips pulling off soft green leaves from a yellow berry bush.
The horse tried to nip the raven on his back.
The bird flapped and rattled at the horse.
The dragonling circled me, wings locked, and then raced skyward.
I had never seen a beast that loved flying so much.
Smiling softly, I took a seat on a flat rock warmed by the sun.
I dug into my bag for some withered mandarin and plum berries I had picked yesterday.
The ground here was muddy with frost at the edges of the little brook.
Short grasses, which would give way to thicker, taller grass as we rode northeast for Quinn’s Quay.
Chewing on the sweet purple berries, I took note of the variety of tracks in the mud.
Free-flowing water attracted beasts of all kinds.
There were dozens of huge hoof prints pushed deeply into the soft, moist dirt.
Tundra oxen had come through here recently.
They moved in large herds, males on the outer perimeter to fight off the packs of wolves that roamed these lands.
Amid the hoof prints were smaller tracks.
Mice, birds, a tawny fox track or two, and half a pad print of a rock bear.
I had no wish to wrangle with the bruins that roamed the edges of this land, nor the clans that moved over it following the tundra oxen.
Their battles were not mine. Having the small ring on my pinkie from the berry agent would aid me greatly if I ran into any clans.
Which I had not planned to do. Riding solo meant I could ride fast, keep a low profile, and make it to my destination within a sun or two.
Leaving the dwarves behind was wise, even if it had been painful. They were hardy folk, but not speedy.
The fresh air and sun felt wonderful on my face.
A shrill cry from above made me glance skyward.
The call of a dragon. It made Hasulett jolt his head up from the bush he was pulling leaves from and sent a chill down my spine.
A cry unheard for thousands of seasons. The blue wyrm swooped down and tumbled across the wet ground, his landing less than perfect.
You flew too fast, I told him, grinning as he righted himself, his snout covered with red clay mud. You must slow down earlier.
Yes, I know that. I merely was lost in flight. He hopped over on three legs, his left front held up, claws tightly fisted. I wish for you to hold this for me.
Very well. I wiped the berry stains from my fingers and opened my palm, expecting a shiny rock. A skeletal finger with a bloody silver band with a large yellow gemstone dropped into my hand. I jerked it away, and the finger dropped to the ground.
Now you have muddied it. Jaculi bit down into it to pluck it from the mud puddle. Come forward. I wish to place this in your shirt.
No! I am…no. That is not going into my shirt. Where did you find this? Take it back.
It is mine. The start of a horde. You gave my green gem away, so now I have yellow.
It is a lady’s finger.
She is dead. She no longer needs her finger or the ring.
No. This is…no. Show me where you found this body. We must return it to the person.
She is no longer a person. Several of us have feasted on the corpse.
My eyes flared. Us?!
Us. The raven Click and me. Fox, wolf, bear. Many have eaten. We have fed. Why are your eyes so large?
Because you…the two of you…it is hard to explain. Eating dead things is…
Good. It is good. Food with no energy spent. You should do so as well.
No, I am not. No. Just…I pushed to my boots, my appetite gone.
There was no way to make a beast understand that eating the body of a dead person was wrong.
They were beasts. If I were them, I would surely not pass up a meal offered freely.
But I was not a beast. I was an elf. Show me where the body lies.
I am keeping the ring. My horde must begin somewhere, and you gave the big green gem away.
I was sure I would never hear the end of that, so I nodded. We would remove the jewelry from the finger somehow. Jaculi could keep the ring. He was right. She had no use for it now.
Hasulett was displeased with leaving the bush when I climbed onto his back.
With a snort of disdain, he trotted in the direction the dragonling had traveled.
Slowing the horse as Jaculi began a slow, circling descent, Click doing the same, we rode up on a scene of pure carnage.
A lone rider, probably female, but it was hard to tell as the bones were not only picked clean but had been scattered about, lying amid the skeletal remains of a big horse.
Dead horse. Dead. No, no, no. Hasulett began to prance about nervously, eyes wide, ears flat, nostrils flared. Run. Run. Run.
No, easy, easy. The hunters are not here. Easy. I rubbed his neck, cooing to his frantic mind. He was bound tightly in fright, his senses screaming at him to leave now. Easy. I will go closer. You stay back.
The gelding about trampled me to get back.
As far back as he could get, yet still be in eye contact.
I walked to the corpse, knelt down in dry viscera and blood, and examined the body.
Yes, a female, no doubt. Smaller than an average male Bhaston or human.
Whether she was human or elf, I could not tell, for the skull was all that remained, and that had been gnawed upon.
The bones thrown about were also bleached white from the sun.
One leg bone to the left and one arm were all that held meat yet.
That flesh was like jerky. Assuming that my traveling companions had been chewing slash pecking at the arm, I stood to look around.
There were no strong tall trees to cradle the body nearby, just some scraggly tundra pine. They would have to do.
Humming a soft song that I carried in my head, learned from Kenton in druidic classes, I gathered up the remains and the finger and carried them to a pine tree barely as tall as Asdren.
Unable to get the remains to lie on the thin bough, I took a moment to dig into my saddlebag to find my spare shirt.
Whispering a prayer to Danubia, I bundled the bones into my shirt and fashioned a sling of sorts.
“Lady Danubia, mother of the roots and branches, the sky and soil, the root and rock, we offer this passing soul onto your divine grace. Guide them into your light, my lady of the deep wood. Welcome them into the eternal grove where they will find peace as they move into their next life amid the brush of the wind and the silent trees. So the cycle of life and death turns by your gracious hand. So it shall be.”
I hung the woman on the tree. It bowed under the weight of the bones but held the sling above the ground enough to hopefully please the goddess.
I sat back on my heels for several moments, reflecting on this person.
Who was she? Did she have family somewhere on these vast plains missing her, mourning her loss, or was she alone in the world like me?
I prayed she had someone grieving her loss. To move through this life without family or loved ones…it made a hole in the soul.
The terrified scream of my horse slid into my thoughts. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Hasulett racing at me, the whites of his eyes showing, foam flecking his chest. I rose and opened my mind to him.
Run! Run!
Just as the first panicked thoughts slammed into my head, I spied the herd of tundra oxen coming in hard and fast. Two dozen at least, perhaps more. I ran to my horse, grabbed the saddle horn, and threw myself onto his back as he charged past.
Lying low and long over his back, I flung a look over my shoulder as the herd of massive beasts engulfed us. I held no anger toward my horse. Something scared him and the herd, and his first instinct was to meld with a large group if danger was near.
I caught sight of a huge shape in the dust the oxen were kicking up.
Lumbering along, humped shoulders a sure sign that a rock bear was charging the herd.
The low, deep rumble of the massive male oxen filled the air, mingling with the thunder of hooves on hard ground.
I took hold of Hasulett’s mane, the reins hanging free, and tried to steer him around and out of the herd.
If I could circle back, I might be able to get a shot at the bear before he killed one of the young oxen amid the adults.
Left. Left. We need to cut left.
Run. Run. Run. Run.
Left. Go left. I can kill the bear.
Fear coursed off my horse and the oxen, their terrified thoughts filling my head.
With a grunt, I closed down my mind, barring even Hasulett.
I gave his mane another tug. He banked left, slightly, but it was enough that we could break from the stampede.
He cut a sharp circle of the mass of fur and horns racing along in a blind panic.
The bear had slowed now, its burst of speed spent, as it wrestled an older oxen to the ground.
My horse locked his legs, skidding to a stop that nearly threw me over his head.
The bear looked up, the oxen’s head in its mighty jaws, then dropped the fatally wounded beast to rise on its back feet.
It towered above me even on horseback. I nocked an arrow as the bear began clacking its bloody jaws.
I lined up my arrow with its chest. Something small and tawny appeared on my right.
My eyes locked on the two cubs running toward the sow.
I lowered my bow, the arrow still sitting on the rest. The cubs joined their mother at the felled oxen. She stood still on her back legs, snapping her jaws loudly.
With a nod, I reached out to her as Hasulett danced nervously under me.
Feed your young.
Her reply was a chuff of warning. I lowered my sight from hers as I touched minds with my gelding.
Hasulett, follow the herd.
He was eager to do so. We left the bear and her cubs to dine.
As much as I hated to see beasts killed, this was the way of nature.
Meat eaters culled the sick and the weak from the herds to ensure that only the strongest survived.
We rode away, leaving the herd and the bears, our goal the pirate city of Quinn’s Quay.