The Horsemasters (36 page)

Siguna gave him a scornful look, bent her knees, leaped high, and flung her leg over the mare’s back. She picked up the reins, clicked to the horse, and, without a backward look, trotted off.

She went for quite a distance, winding her way along a deer track, feeling happier now that she was away from the camp and Teala’s incessant scolding. At last she dismounted in a clearing, where there was some grass for Buttercup, and resigned herself to looking for herbs, Fenris would be angry when he learned she had lied to the horse guards, and it would go better for her if she actually did come back with some herbs. Siguna picketed Buttercup by means of a large rock and began to move toward the forest.

Close by, a stallion screamed. Siguna’s heart jerked, then began to pound as she whirled to retrace her steps toward Buttercup. There was the sound of crashing branches within the forest, and the stallion screamed again. Then came the sound of hooves.

Siguna reached Buttercup and grabbed her halter. The mare was pulling on her halter and trembling all over.

The drumming hooves were coming closer, and suddenly, to Siguna’s utter astonishment, there erupted into the clearing a dark gray horse with a boy on its back. The stallion came to a sliding halt and stared at the mare; the boy, who looked like a startled fawn, stared at Siguna.

“Dhu,” the boy said.

The stallion snorted and pawed the ground. The boy patted his arched neck and continued to look at Siguna. “Can you understand what I am saying?” he asked her slowly.

Siguna, who had learned more of the language of her father’s captives than anyone else among the Horsemasters, did understand him. She nodded.

“I think, if I let him come up to her and sniff her, it will be all right,” the boy said. “He is still only a colt; he probably won’t try to do anything.”

“I understand you,” Siguna answered carefully, “but get off of him first.”

The boy slid off his horse’s back, murmuring to him all the while. Then, holding the reins tightly, he walked the stallion up to Buttercup, The two began an intensive smelling exchange, accompanied with squeals and little jumps. The boy and girl held their horses’ reins and made their own agile leaps to keep out of the way of the excited equine couple. After a short while, however, both horses decided the patches of grass in the clearing looked inviting and lowered their heads to graze side by side, Siguna turned to the boy.

He was only a little older than she, she saw, with floppy brown hair and long-lashed brown eyes. Once again he gave her the impression of a fawn. “You are riding a horse,” she said flatly, voicing what was to her the most amazing thing about this whole encounter.

His large eyes grew wary. “Sa,” he said. “You speak my language very well.”

“I have known some of your people,” she replied guardedly.

They looked at each other again.

“Do all of the people in these mountains ride horses?” Siguna asked slowly.

The boy’s face was very grave. He did not reply.

“What are you doing here alone?” she asked next.

“I might ask you the same question,” he replied.

“I do not understand.”

“What are you doing here alone?”

“I am gathering herbs,” she said.

“You have come a long way from your camp just to gather herbs.”

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How do you know where my camp is?”

“I have seen it.”

Suddenly, she understood. “You have been watching us, haven’t you?” she accused him. “Spying on us?”

His narrow nostrils flared. “Your people have scarcely shown themselves to be friends of my people.”

“Thorn,” called a voice from within the forest.

“Here, Mait!” the boy called back. “Come carefully, there is a mare.”

Siguna and the boy stood in silence and listened to the sound of another horse approaching. Acorn raised his head and neighed shrilly to his friend.

“Is it another stallion?” Siguna asked.

“Sa. Another three-year-old. Perhaps it will be all right.”

A second boy and horse erupted into the clearing, and things went as before. When all three horses had once more settled down to grazing, Siguna surveyed the boy called Mait. He was darker than the one named Thorn, with very dark brown hair and eyes. His olive-toned cheeks were smooth and beardless.

“What are we going to do about her?” Mait was asking Thorn. “If we send her back to her camp, she will tell them that we have horses.”

“I have been thinking of that,” Thorn said.

It was the strangest thing, Siguna thought, but she felt no fear. She should be afraid. Even smooth-skinned boys in her tribe were perfectly capable of murdering a girl who got in the way of their plans. But, for some reason, she did not think these boys would hurt her.

“We have seen you come and go about the chief’s tent,” the one named Thorn said to her. “Who are you?”

“I am his daughter,” she answered proudly. Her chin lifted. “My name is Siguna.”

There was the faintest glimmer of what looked like relief on Thorn’s face. Siguna wondered why.

“I am afraid, Siguna,” he said to her, speaking slowly so she would be sure to understand, “that you are going to have to come with us. We won’t hurt you, but we cannot set you free to warn your people.”

“Perhaps you would promise us to say nothing?” Mait asked hopefully.

Siguna shook her head. “I would never betray my father.”

Mait sighed. “I suppose not.” He pulled at his lower lip and muttered to Thorn, “What is Ronan going to say when we come in with the Horsemaster chief’s daughter?”

“I don’t think he will be happy. But he will be even less happy if we let her give us away.”

“True. But won’t her tribe miss her and come looking for her?”

“This is what we will do,” Thorn said. “We will send the mare back with her reins ripped. They will think Siguna has had an accident in the forest. They will look for her, of course, but when they cannot find her, they will assume that she is dead.”

Mait nodded solemnly.

“We will have to be very careful to cover the way of our going.”

Again Mait nodded, Siguna’s crystal gray eyes widened as he added, “We can put her on one of our horses and take turns walking.”

“Sa,” said the one named Thorn, evidently finding nothing odd in the prospect of walking while a woman rode. “I know we were supposed to remain here until the Horsemasters moved again, but I am thinking the situation has changed.”

Siguna, who had followed most of this conversation, realized with growing foreboding that the surveillance on her people had been more or less constant.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

“We are taking you to our own camp,” Thorn replied, “and to our own chief.”

At those words, and for the first time in this very odd encounter, Siguna was afraid. She assumed the icy expression she always wore to mask her fear and asked, “He will make me one of his women?”

The boys looked horrified. “Of course not!” Thorn said.

“In our tribe, a man has only one woman,” Mait explained kindly, “and Ronan is married to Nel. You will be no man’s woman, Siguna. It is simply that we wish to keep the fact that we have horses a secret, so we cannot send you back to your father.”

“What will you do with me, then?” Siguna asked, truly mystified.

“That will be for Ronan to say” came Mait’s reply. He turned to Thorn. “We had better not delay.”

“That is so,” Thorn said. He took the mare’s reins from Siguna and led her apart from the two colts. Then he slashed the braided leather rein with his knife, so it trailed in the dirt, and slapped the mare on her flank to send her on her way. At first she resisted going, particularly when Acorn raised his head and called after her. But Thorn picked up some stones and chased her a little distance along the deer track. When he returned to the clearing, Siguna was sitting on Acorn, with Mait on Frost holding her reins.

Mait grinned. “You can walk first.”

Thorn made a face. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-five

To Siguna’s utter stupefaction, the boys let her ride the whole way. It never once seemed to occur to either Thorn or Mait to make her walk. She did not understand it.

She could understand the way they talked about their chief. They were afraid of him, but even more than that, they wanted him to think well of them. That attitude made perfect sense to Siguna; it was the way her father’s men regarded him. It was the boys’ behavior toward her that she found so odd.

Her first sight of the Great Cave was reassuring. The massive tunnel was impressive, but the large group of people gathered together in the bright sunlight at the tunnel’s entrance seemed to be comprised mainly of women and children. It was not until later, when Siguna got a chance to see the arrows that the women were working on so industriously, that her initial complacency died.

All the heads lifted when Siguna and the boys came around the turn and into sight of the cave. Thorn halted the horses at a little distance from the women, and Siguna sat proudly upright and watched warily as a slim, long-legged girl detached herself from the group and approached, two wolflike dogs following at her heels.

“Greetings, Nel,” Thorn said gravely when the girl had reached them. “I am glad you are here. We have a little problem.”

“So I see,” the girl called Nel replied, lifting long green eyes to survey Siguna, “The Horsemasters are on the move again?”

“Na.” It was Mait who answered as Thorn slid down from Acorn’s back. “But we met this girl in the forest by accident, and she saw us riding the horses. We did not think Ronan would want her to return to her people bearing that particular news.”

“She is the daughter of their chief,” Thorn put in, flipping Acorn’s reins over his head and leading the colt a little forward.

“Dhu,” said the girl called Nel. One of the dogs pushed up beside her and nudged her hand with his head. Absently, Nel began to stroke his forehead. The other dog whined, and Mait snapped his fingers. The dog trotted over to Mait, tail wagging, to have its head scratched.

Siguna watched the dogs with wary amazement. The dogs belonging to her tribe were not the sort you patted on the head. In fact, since childhood Siguna had borne a scar on her calf that served her as an eloquent reminder of the ferocity of dogs. She had been only a small girl when the incident had happened, but she remembered well that if her father had not been nearby to pull the dog off her, she would have had far more scars than the single one on her leg.

Nel was still looking at her. “Do you understand our way of speaking?” she asked Siguna, speaking slowly and clearly.

“Sa,” Siguna replied gruffly.

Nel straightened up, and the dog she had been petting made its way to Thorn in search of more attention. Siguna stiffened as it came closer to her. Nel saw her reaction and smiled reassuringly. “The dogs won’t hurt you.”

Siguna stuck her chin in the air. “I am not afraid of dogs,” she said, proudly if untruthfully.

Nel said nothing, just continued to look at her. Siguna had the oddest feeling that those extraordinary green eyes were seeing right through into her thoughts. Even more oddly, she didn’t resent it.

Finally, Nel said to the boys, “You did the right thing. It is unfortunate that you encountered her, but you were right not to turn her free.” She looked again at Siguna. “I fear you are going to have to make your home with us for a while.” The tone of her voice was gently rueful.

“So I have been made to understand,” Siguna said, her own voice still gruff.

A small boy came running out of the tunnel entrance shouting, “Uncle Mait! Uncle Mait! You’re back!” He dashed up and flung his arms around the young man’s knees.

Mait laughed and lifted the child to sit on his shoulders. “Sa, I am back, Learn. Where is your mother?”

“There.” A small finger pointed in the direction of a woman who was exiting the tunnel at a slower pace than her son. Siguna saw that she had the same smooth dark hair and olive-toned skin as Mait. This must be his sister, she thought.

“What has happened?” the new arrival demanded in a voice that had the same lilting intonation as Mait’s.

Once again Siguna heard her presence being explained. Then silence fell, and everyone looked at the slim girl, who seemed to be in charge.

“Tora, will you have someone get me White Foot?” Nel asked. “Thorn and I will take Siguna out to the men’s camp. We had better discuss this matter with Ronan.”

* * * *

It did not take them long to get to the valley where the men were camped and the horses were pastured, Siguna, shrewdly checking numbers, was relieved when she saw the small herd of horses. The numbers of men were much greater, greater than any force her father had yet encountered, Yet still, Siguna reckoned, they were but half the number of men who followed Fenris. There was nothing here that should cause her father undue trouble.

“You and Siguna wait here,” Nel said to Thorn, and, followed by her two dogs, she cantered down the hill toward one of the massed groups of men in the valley. She rode a little differently from the men of Siguna’s tribe, but her balance and control were perfect. She pulled up, and a black-haired man came forward to stand by her horse’s side. They spoke together.

“That is Ronan,” Thorn said. “Our chief.”

Siguna asked curiously, “And is Nel his wife?”

“Sa.”

“She is a good rider,” said Siguna.

Someone was running for the chief’s horse, a big gray stallion, and in a short time both Nel and her husband were cantering toward Siguna and Thorn. Siguna’s throat suddenly dried, and her heart began to thud in her chest. Who knew what this chief would do with her?

The horses were approaching the slope, and then they were driving upward, directly at the two who waited on the top of the hill above them. The gray stallion came to a sliding halt in front of Siguna, and she saw with surprise that the chief was young.

“Dhu, Thorn,” he said in a distinctly ill-tempered voice, “I told you to keep out of sight.”

“I am sorry, Ronan,” Thorn replied humbly.