Beyond the Prophecy (14 page)

Finally, he’d cut enough of the thorny branches—at the
expense of some skin and blood of his own—to extract the foal without further
injuring it. He picked it up carefully and started toward the waterhole.

“
Now
what are you doing?” Bolan demanded.

“I don’t know about you, but my pack doesn’t contain any
milk,” Theklan said over his shoulder. “Best we can do for it here is a little
water.”

“Sky above and earth below!” Bolan muttered. But all the
boys followed Theklan to the waterhole, bringing Theklan’s horse along with
them.

Theklan had seen how Boreala treated the dog, Copper, after
the Temple Guards nearly killed her in their abduction of Vatar’s twins. He
laid the foal down long enough to get a cloth from his bag. It had wrapped a
piece of flatbread, but Theklan had eaten that in the saddle an hour ago. It’d
be clean enough. He soaked the cloth in the waterhole and then squeezed it to
dribble a bit of water into the foal’s mouth.

At first, the water just ran across the baby’s nose. “Come
on! At least try,” Theklan urged. The foal’s lips moved and it swallowed
weakly. “That’s it. A little more.” He soaked the cloth again and then offered
it for the little horse to suck on. The colt sucked thirstily. “Poor thing. How
long have you been lying there without anything to eat or drink, huh?”

After sucking most of the water out of the cloth, the foal
struggled weakly to its feet and stood unsteadily. Theklan quickly soaked the
cloth again and offered it.

“All right. You’ve done what you could,” Bolan said. “But
you know it’s still going to die, don’t you? It’s too young to even feed
itself. A predator will have it before we’ve gotten over the next rise.”

Theklan laid a hand protectively on the foal’s shoulder. “Oh
no, they won’t. We’re taking him back with us.”

“We don’t have time for this. In case you’ve forgotten,
we’re supposed to be completing our manhood test here. We have to find a wild
horse to bring back with us.”

“He
is
a wild horse, isn’t he?” One side of Theklan’s
mouth twitched up. “He may not be a stallion yet, but he will be in a few
years. And the shaman only specified a male, which he is.” His smile grew
broader. “The shaman even said it should be a young male, which he certainly
is.” He could see Bolan working up an argument. Naturally, the older boy wanted
to ride back triumphantly leading the finest wild horse stallion they could
find. That would be much more impressive than riding back with a foal across
his lap. On the other hand . . . “I bet there’d be a lot better chance this
little guy would stay with our herds, too, if he was raised among them. He’d
probably think he
was
a Dardani horse. And in a few years . . .”

He left that hanging. In a few years, when this little guy
grew up thinking it was a Dardani horse, it’d naturally turn to the Dardani
mares come mating time. And maybe some of his foals would have that beautiful
coat, too.

Bolan nodded and smiled slowly. “In a few years, he’d see
our mares as his natural mates. Good idea.”

Theklan smiled as he watched the foal wander a few steps on
his spindly legs.

“Uh oh,” one of the Wolf Clan boys muttered. “I think we
stayed too long.”

“Why?” Bolan asked.

“The wolves are coming back. They might be defending their
kill. Or just coming back to finish up whatever’s left.”

“Or maybe they’ve got cubs nearby,” another Wolf Clan boy
said.

“How many?” Bolan asked.

The first Wolf Clan boy shook his head. “Can you count a
whole herd of wild horses just from your sense of them? I only know that it’s a
large pack. And they’re on the hunt.”

Theklan stood up and gathered up the foal. He thrust it into
the arms of the nearest Wolf Clan boy, who wouldn’t be able to fight the wolves
anyway, if it came to that. Not without a month of cleansing rituals afterward.
“Here. Take care of him.”

As soon as he’d handed off the foal, Theklan turned to mount
his horse. At a movement seen out of the corner of his eye, he grabbed his
spear from the straps on his saddle instead and spun to face the first wolf.

Just in time. The spear slashed a gaping wound in the wolf’s
shoulder. The beast whined and veered aside, but there were at least half a
dozen more behind it. They seemed bigger on foot and close up than they had the
times he’d seen them from horseback and at a distance. And their teeth looked
sharper.

A thud and another whine marked where one of the horses had
kicked a wolf that got too close. One of the horses squealed in pain. The
horses, including Theklan’s bay, whinnied and danced restlessly.

The waving spear point held the other wolves at bay, but
Theklan had no chance to get into the saddle, especially with his horse in
constant movement. Some of the boys, including the Wolf Clan boys, had already
ridden off—or been carried off by their nervous horses.

Theklan’s bay gave a very determined jerk on the reins that
almost pulled Theklan off his feet. Bolan rode up on the far side and grabbed
the bridle. The other Horse Clan boys, who seemed to have the best control of
their mounts, surrounded Theklan, making a wall between him and the wolves.

“Hurry up. Get on your horse,” Bolan said.

Theklan got a foot into the stirrup and pulled himself up,
still clutching his spear in one hand. Along with the Horse Clan boys, he
turned his jumpy horse to face the threat, lowering his spear. Bolan gave a
sign and they all pushed their horses to move forward, spears lowered or bows
drawn. The wolves slowly backed up away from them, snarling.

Bolan signaled for the three boys with bows to go back and
rejoin the others.  That left three of them, including Theklan, with
spears.

“This is going to be tricky,” Bolan said. “Do we charge them
and hope to drive them off? Or try to get back to the others?”

“If we turn around, they’re going to come after us,” the
other boy said. “And the horses are going to bolt. It’s hard enough to hold
them now.”

“I say charge,” Theklan agreed. The blade of his spear
flashed in the afternoon sun as if it agreed with him. He just wished there
were more than three of them against at least twice as many wolves.

Bolan nodded, swallowing hard. “On my signal, then.”

Theklan had to dig his heels hard into the bay’s sides to
get the horse to run
toward
the wolves when Bolan gave the sign. Seemed
like the Horse Clan boys didn’t have much better luck, because they all moved
out in a ragged line, spears lowered.

Growling, the wolves held their ground for a moment before
turning to run over the crest of the rise.

Bolan reined in his horse and the others followed. “Let’s
get out of here before they decide to come back.”

No one argued with that logic.

Theklan and Kiara sat watching the foal suckle greedily.
Fortunately, the herders had known of a mare whose own foal had been stillborn
only the day before. She’d been more than happy to take on the wild foal and
he’d been too hungry to notice she wasn’t his own mother. It wasn’t as if
seeing a foal was a new occurrence for either Theklan or Kiara. The Dardani
lived surrounded by their herds. But the little thing was cute, and Theklan
felt partly responsible for it. Also, it gave them a reason to be more or less
alone for a little while.

“We should get back,” Kiara said. “They’ll be starting the
jarai tournament soon. You don’t want to miss that.”

Theklan smiled a little at the thought. The jarai tournament
was the highlight of the Midsummer Festival and most boys—young men—only got
the chance to play in it once, the year of their manhood test. Though, with
only two Eagle Clan boys this year, they’d be recruiting a few veterans of
recent tournaments to fill out their team of five, which might actually give
them an advantage. Three teams at a time, all mounted, tried to toss a ball
into baskets set at the points of a triangular field—or prevent the other teams
from scoring. It was a fast-moving game in which alliances changed every time
the ball changed hands. And, almost always, much more exciting than the actual
manhood test. It was the part of the Festival Theklan had been looking forward
to most. “I certainly don’t want to miss that. But . . . while we’ve got a
moment before the tournament and then the feast, I wanted to give you this.”
Theklan pulled the bridle he’d made, now adorned with the purple dye Vatar had
brought, out from the bag he’d been carrying.

Kiara took it and looked at it with wonder. “Oh, Theklan.
It’s gorgeous. You really do have a talent for leather work.” She clutched it
to her breast and looked up, eyes shining. “I’ll keep it for you.”

Theklan drew in a deep breath and leaned forward to kiss
her. She put her arms around his neck and he drew her in closer. He could feel
the metal fittings of the bridle pressed between them. She still tasted like
berries and set his heart racing, but somehow it wasn’t quite as scary this
time. He pulled his head back, breaking off the kiss, without letting her go.
“I’ll come back, Kiara. I promise.”

“I know you will.” After a moment, she stepped back and he
let her go. “Right now, though, you’d better get ready to play jarai. I want to
cheer you on. We’ll have time later.” A dismayed expression crossed her face.
“Vatar’s not taking you away tomorrow, is he?”

One side of Theklan’s mouth twitched up. “No. He said making
me ride a long distance the day after my manhood test would be cruel.” His
half-smile faded. “But I think they plan on the day after.”

“We have tomorrow, then. At least.”

“Tomorrow, for now. Until I come back to you.”

Kiara smiled broadly at that. “
Until
you come back.”

~

Theklan rolled over with a groan and lay still for a moment
looking up at the leather roof of the hut. The vents were open and daylight
streamed in. Morning light. He tried to account for the time. He remembered the
test and finding the little wild foal. That was real, he was sure. He
remembered talking to Kiara and giving her the bridle. He felt around under his
bedding. The bridle wasn’t there, so that was likely real, too. He had a vague
recollection of the jarai tournament—the Lion Clan had won, but the Eagle Clan
had done well. And Kiara had cheered him on, just like she’d said. After that,
things got really hazy, though. There was food. And more of that cider drink
he’d had when he was adopted by the Eagle Clan year before last. It tasted
strange, not like the cider back in Caere. And it burned, going down. And Kiara
had been there, he was sure of that—for a while, anyway.

He reached over to scratch his right shoulder, wondering why
it itched so fiercely. A hand grasped his, stopping him.

“You don’t want to distort the tattoo,” Kiara’s voice said.

Why was Kiara in Vatar’s and Thekila’s hut? For that matter,
where were Vatar and Thekila? Theklan rolled toward her voice and then winced
at the sudden movement.

Kiara laughed softly. “Head hurts? Mother says she’s never
known a young man not to have a headache the morning after his manhood test.”
She pressed something into his hand. A mug, by the feel of it. “Willow bark
tea. Tastes awful, but it really will help.”

Theklan propped himself on one elbow and took a sip. She
hadn’t been wrong about the taste. “
Wha
—” He stopped
to take another swallow of the tea despite the taste, hoping to dissolve at
least some of the cotton fluff that seemed to fill his mouth. “What are you
doing sitting there?”

“Waiting for you to wake up, obviously.” Her smile faltered.
“If we only have today, I didn’t want to waste it.”

Theklan choked on the next sip of tea. He’d somehow
forgotten that aspect. Vatar and Thekila would probably want to leave tomorrow.
So soon! “Uh. Give me a moment, okay? Then we’ll . . . we’ll go for a walk.” A
slow walk, so his head didn’t fall off.

“I’ll go get something for you to eat. Mother said you
wouldn’t want to, but you should have some bread anyway. That it’d make you
feel better.”

Theklan winced as his stomach roiled at the thought of food.
Still, Lucina was rarely wrong about things like that. “All right.”

~

Theklan slowed down. Since he was holding her hand, Kiara
was forced to match his pace. The village was ahead. They’d walked all the way
around the lake-sized Zeda waterhole. It didn’t feel like it could have been
that long, but he looked to the west. Sure enough, the sun was just coloring
the sky in pinks and lavenders, soon to deepen to reds and purples. Their one
day was almost over.

“What is it?” Kiara asked.

“I’m . . .” Theklan paused to clear his throat. Must have
gotten something in it. “I’m not ready for this to be over. I don’t want to
leave tomorrow.”

Kiara fitted herself against his side, turning to look at
the slowly setting sun with him. “I don’t want you to, either.” She paused,
watching the gradually darkening colors in the sky. “Do you think there’s any
chance you could come back next summer? Just for a little while?”

Theklan put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
“I don’t know. Usually students aren’t allowed to cross the mountains until
after they graduate. But . . . I’m not exactly a usual case anymore.” He
thought of his new spear, tucked away ready for tomorrow. Crossing the forest
alone was dangerous, but Vatar had done it. And it wouldn’t be Theklan’s first
time, either. “Maybe I just won’t ask for permission. What could they do to
me?” He sighed, knowing that the answer might be not to allow him to finish his
training. Depending on what happened in Tysoe, that cost might be too high.
“I’ll find a way to get a message to you, whatever else happens.”

“See that you do.” Kiara turned in his arms and kissed him.
Hard. Like it would be their last for a long time.

Theklan kissed her back just as urgently, wanting to keep
the taste of her on his lips, the feel of her in his arms, until he could come
back to her.

They broke apart, both flushed and breathing hard. Theklan
stepped back, putting an arm’s length between them. He was very close to
telling Vatar and Thekila that he couldn’t go to the Academy. Breaking his
promise to Thekila. Ruining any chance of being able to help in the coming
war—if it came to that. Any chance of being able to protect Kiara.

Kiara swallowed hard. “I . . .
It’s
getting dark. We’d better get back.”

Theklan let out his breath, waiting until he could trust his
voice not to crack. “You go on. I . . . I need to think a little.”

“All right. See you at dinner.”

Theklan squatted down where he was. He scooped up a handful
of stones and started skipping them across the water, one by one. What was he
supposed to do? By Dardani standards, he was a man now. That meant neither
Vatar nor Thekila could tell him what to do anymore. But it also meant that his
honor—the single most important thing to a Dardani—was at stake in breaking a
promise. And he had promised to go back to the Valley and the Academy after his
manhood test.

Then, too, the Dardani were his people—by adoption if not by
birth. And certainly his heart was here on the plains—not just because of
Kiara, either. This was the place he felt most at home, most himself. He didn’t
want to leave that behind, even temporarily. On the other hand, the Dardani
might soon face possibly the worst threat in their history. One they were
completely unprepared to fight. Surely that meant he was honor-bound to defend
them. The more so if he was one of the few who
could.

Why did everything have to be so confusing?

And then there was Kiara. Talk about confusing. He wanted to
be with her always. And he was more than a little afraid of her, too. Or of how
she made him feel. Despite the ceremonies and his new tattoo—oh sky above and earth
below, he shouldn’t have thought of that. Now he couldn’t help noticing how it
itched. Funny. He hadn’t noticed that during all the hours idly walking around
the waterhole with Kiara. She had that effect on him. When he was with her, it
was hard to notice much else.

But, despite the manhood test and the ceremonies, he didn’t
feel any nearer to being ready to build a hut for them. Not . . . not yet.
Someday. It was getting . . . complicated . . . just to sleep on the opposite
side of the same hut. He’d been glad to move into Vatar’s and Thekila’s hut
when they arrived.

She’d promised to wait for him. Maybe . . . maybe it would
be better all-around to go away for a while. Probably, he’d feel more ready in
a year or two when he came back. And then he wouldn’t have to leave again.

In fact, he was going to have to go away, one way or the
other. It was one thing to stay with Vatar’s family over the winter. He’d still
been a boy, then. And, anyway, Vatar had brought him back after the clans split
up for the year. And he didn’t really have a family to stay with among the
Eagle Clan—not as a boy. Ariad was the nearest thing he had to a relative in
his own clan, apart from Thekila. Ariad had stood for him when he got his Clan
Mark. Theklan’s nose wrinkled at the thought of staying in the same hut with
Ariad and Avaza. No. That definitely wouldn’t have worked.

Now he wouldn’t have to, of course. He would have a place in
the men’s hut with the other bachelors. That’d be all right, for a while. Most
of the young men moved into the men’s hut within a day or two of the manhood
test. Except that it’d be the Eagle Clan men’s hut. And he’d still be separated
from Kiara once the clans split up.

That was it, then. Might as well keep his word and his honor
and go to the Valley. But the thought of leaving Kiara made his stomach churn.
He didn’t
want
to go.

Theklan pushed to his feet. “
Gah
!
Why does everything have to be so complicated?” He threw his arms out to his
sides, lifting every pebble within a dozen yards with his Power and throwing
them all at the waterhole. The chaos caused by all those stones pelting into
the water at once looked very like the way he felt.

“Theklan!”

Theklan spun around at the sound of Vatar’s voice. “What—”

“I came looking for you. And a good thing, too.” Vatar
pointed toward the village—Raven Clan on this side—and the single hut isolated
from the rest by a little distance. A man stood there, staring in Theklan’s
direction. The shaman.

Theklan licked his lips nervously. “It’s . . . it’s getting
pretty dark. Do you think he saw anything?”

“I don’t know. And maybe he can’t be sure what he saw. Or
maybe the shaman has better vision than most of us. Either way, we should get
back now, before he decides to ask any awkward questions. I’ll go talk to him while
you finish packing.”

~

When Vatar stepped down into the hut, Theklan looked up from
stuffing spare clothing into his travelling pack. The look on Vatar’s face
wasn’t encouraging.

Theklan swallowed hard. “What did the shaman say?”

Vatar shook his head. “Not much. Not until he’s consulted
with the Spirits, anyway. At least he’s not calling for an immediate exorcism.
And I don’t think Baraz is likely to spread rumors about you, the way Avaza
would if she’d seen the same thing. All in all, though, I think it’s as well
we’re leaving in the morning.”

“He . . . saw, then?”

“Oh, yes, he saw. And it’d be useless to try to persuade him
that he didn’t. Maybe, when he’s had time to . . . calm down, I’ll be able to
explain in a way he can understand—or at least accept. Not right now, though.”

“What if he . . . doesn’t accept your explanation?”

Vatar laid a hand on Theklan’s shoulder. “In that case, it
might be better if you didn’t come back here.”

Theklan hunched like he’d been kicked in the gut. Not come
back? Ever? But this was his home. And Kiara was here. How could he not come
back?

Vatar squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll try everything I can to
fix things for you. But, at best, it’s likely to take some time. You should be
prepared for that.”

Theklan nodded, his head down to hide the tears stinging the
corners of his eyes.

Vatar walked over to look down at the sleeping twins. “I
think we’ll leave them with my parents, after all.”

“We will?” Thekila asked.

Vatar shrugged. “We’ll travel more quickly that way.”

“I thought the twins were pretty good travelers coming
across the plains,” Thekila said.

“Across the plains, yes. But we can’t take their ponies into
the Forest—which would be the first cause of much howling. Then . . . well, I
can’t carry them both anymore. Not that far. And two footsore five-year-olds .
. .”