The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2) (12 page)

By now there were a fair few horses being led out of the courtyard, but not enough. Not nearly enough. I remembered to grab the rag off Blaze's face and went in again.

The air was torn by the sudden screams of a horse. I tried to get to the sound, but the fire was too hot and burning fragments were starting to drop down from the burning hayloft above. It was sickening and the smell of burning horsehair and flesh made me gag, but I didn't have time to cry. I found myself in another stall fighting with Daft Sally, one of our brood mares, who didn't want to come, when I heard the most astounding thing. It took me a moment to realise that the voice was not coming from behind me.

It was Varien. His mindvoice was calm and he was speaking to the horses in broad truespeech. He was not using words, just feelings, of calm, of sense, of safety outside the barn, of trusting and following the people who were trying to help.

I couldn't be certain, but it seemed to help. Daft Sally calmed down enough to let me throw a halter over her neck and she followed me out, terrified but willing to go. I walked her as fast as I could to the door and gave the lead rope to young Tam. Every soul on the stead was working hard to get out as many as we could, but in the pit of my stomach I knew that the fire was well caught and if we could get any more of them out it would be by the grace of the Lady.

I was heading back to the stable door when on the edges of my mind it occurred to me even in the midst of that mad chaos that there seemed to be an awful lot of folk about, even with every soul we had—maybe some of the villagers had come—I was all but through the door when something fell over my own face, filled my mouth and blinded me, and I felt myself grabbed from behind with my arms pinioned to my sides. The man was big enough to drag me with one arm and keep the other tight around my throat. I tried to scream and got a mouthful of cloth, which set me coughing. I cried out in truespeech to Varien, as loud as I could, and tried desperately to stop coughing and breathe.

I had just managed to take one breath—I know this sounds slow, but it happened all in a moment—when in the midst of trying to kick backwards with my heeled boots, aiming vaguely for a shin, I was pulled off my feet. Only after being dragged backwards for a while did I remember what Jamie had taught me and tried to twist out of my captor's hold. He seemed to have been expecting it, though, and tightened his stranglehold around my neck. It was clearly either breathe or fight, and even at that my breathing was terribly limited.

"Varien, quickly, help me!" I cried, with all the strength of mind I had.

"Lanen, you must focus your thought. Where are you ? Are you in the barn?"

"No, no, some bastard has me by the throat so I can't scream. He's dragging me across the yard!"

"Dearling, be calm if you can. You are casting your speech too wide and I cannot find you," came Varien's voice, strong and calm and reassuring. Send your thoughts to me through the smallest opening you can imagine. I shall follow you." It wasn't easy to think straight—I was furious that I was so easily held helpless, my mind was filled with getting the rest of the horses out of that inferno, and just on the edges of thought came the worry about what whoever it was that had me would do when he got tired of dragging me across the cobbles. However, desperation concentrates the mind wonderfully. I tried to think of a pinhole, just big enough for my mindvoice to get through, as Varien had taught me. "I'm here love I'm here, the bastard's dragging me backwards, even in all this madness I should be easy enough to find— Goddess, that was another of the horses in the barn, I'm going to be sick—damn, we're off the cobbles and outside on the grass damn it I need to breathe—"

The noises were receding, or at least changing. I could still hear horses yelling, it twisted in my gut, but now it was an outdoor sound, not the echoing noise they'd made in the courtyard, and around and about me were the sounds of quite a few horses and people. "We're passing the paddock, damn this bastard I can't get a foothold to stop him he's moving me too fast, can't anyone see me he's too damn strong watch out there are more of them!"

We had stopped. The other voices were low and terrify-ingly calm as they tied my hands together. I struggled and tried to scream again, but I couldn't get enough breath to make any difference, and I was kept off balance quite successfully. The word "overpowered" occurred to me, and now I truly knew what it meant. It struck me then that I might just die there, alone and trussed up in the middle of my own field.

Fear always makes me furious. I twisted and fought harder, kicking when I could, but my captor tightened whatever he had around my throat and I had to give over. "Varien, quick, they're tying me up and I still can't breathe," I sent in truespeech. I was terrified and it was harder than ever to draw a simple breath. "Help, help, I'm here, I'm here, please, help me find me get me out of here they're tying my feet I can't stop them help help help."

I could do no more, I was exhausted and now my head was pounding from using truespeech. I felt I was only a few breaths away from fainting for lack of air, so I concentrated on just breathing.

I summoned my strength and went swiftly over the Kantri Discipline of Calm as I sought her. I knew I could be of no further use to the horses, for Jameth had stopped us all from entering the barn. The fire was raging now and it was plain that nothing else could be done. For a fleeting moment I longed for my old form. I could have simply lifted the horses out, for the fire would not have harmed me.

I noted as I sought the direction of Lanen's voice that Jameth had begun clearing the horses from the other two stables. Ah, there.

Old habits die so slowly. I had spent my entire life being certain of my power over the Gedri, knowing that they could pose no real threat to me. Had I thought about it for even the half of a moment I would have called for assistance, but I did not. I suspect I was not as calm as I believed, for I followed Lanen's thought and hurried after her, my sword in my hand. I was too far away when I finally realised that I had been foolish, but by then I could do nothing but finish what I had begun. I sent a prayer winging to the Winds as I came up to the dark knot of men who were busy tying Lanen hand and foot. We were too far from the walls of the stead for any to hear a cry for help, amidst all the mayhem.

I did not stop to announce my presence, I simply raised my sword and rushed at them. I must have made some sound—I think I may have growled in my anger—but in any case they heard me and easily avoided my ill-aimed blow.

"Kill him," said one quietly, pointing to me. A large man left the others and came to meet me. What little training I had had that morning deserted me as old instincts took over. I nearly dropped my sword to swipe at him with my claws, but I managed to remember at the last moment that I had none, and by pure chance managed to avoid his sword. I was off balance and tried to back away, but he kept coming towards me, menacing in the darkness.

"Akor!" came Lanen's mindvoice, weak now. Just that one word, but the fear in it rang like metal in my soul and fo-cussed my thoughts into cold, calm fury. I leapt back and found my feet, then began to advance, growling, towards the one who stood before me. He struck and his blade glanced off mine and hit my arm, but I ignored the flash of pain.

Time seemed to change around me, for I moved as fast as I could and suddenly the other was slow and clumsy. I was able to strike at his unprotected body before he struck again. He faltered and dropped his sword and I struck once more, putting my body into the blow.

He dropped to the ground and I turned around to face the others, only to find a second body on the ground before me and the others in flight. I turned and slipped on the wet grass, and sat suddenly upon something soft. Another body. This one had a drawn knife in one hand and had been just behind me—but I certainly hadn't killed it.

"Lanen! " I called, shaking my head as I stood and slowly returned to the normal passage of time.

"Here, love, and safe now. I'm here with the horses they left."

I strode over to her. "Dearling, how did you ... ?"

"She didn't. That was me. Good even, Master Varien."

Well, there's not much left to tell. When Ross has room to swing, it doesn't matter if they parry, he's just too strong and his blow works anyway. It didn't then. That skinny git with the silver hair should have gone down with half his arm lopped off, or broken at the very least, but he stopped Ross's blow with his bare forearm. He didn't even yell, he hissed, and then he moved up and struck out fast as a snake. I've never seen anything like it, you couldn't even see his sword move. Ross was hit, bad. Dev kept trying to tie up the woman, but she was fighting like fury and Dev had to keep tight hold of her. I tried throwing a knife or two, but I was scared witless and my aim went all over the place. This wasn't Old Man Merc, this was something worse: something that couldn't be hurt with steel and moved like the wind. He swung that damned huge sword round again and near cut Ross in two, killed him sure, but while Jaker had come up behind him and was about to knife him, I heard a quiet sound like a butcher cutting meat, and saw Jaker drop to the ground without a sound. Then Porlan, who had come up in front to take him out while he was busy with Ross, dropped as well.

Dev swore and yelled "Run!" He tried to bring the woman along, but she kicked and fought and got out of his grip and by then he just let her, grabbing my arm and hauling me away over the dark ground. I didn't resist. Who had sent those knives through the air from nowhere, in the dark, and killed Jaker and Porlan in the instant?

Well, none of us wanted to wait and find out. We ran like fury. They didn't follow us.

We got back to where Hask was waiting with the horses and stirred up the fire. Dev told Hask what had happened. I hadn't been sick, though it had been a close thing. I'd never forget the sound of that knife hitting Jaker. I wasn't shamed of running, for we'd all run, but the more I thought about it the more I thought that maybe both Dev and Old Man Merc had been right. And Ross and Jaker and Porlan hadn't even been threatened. They were just dead, just like that, with no warning.

I really didn't want my last thought to be where did that knife come from?, and to judge from what had happened that seemed like to be my future, and there didn't look to be much of that future to think about. And you know, just there and then, 'twixt one breath and the next, I decided I didn't give a damn what anybody thought, and there wasn't enough money in the world to lose my whole life over.

I went up to Dev when he had stopped talking. He looked grim. He and Ross'd been working together for years. They were nearly friends.

He'd just told the others that we would wait for them to come out, for he knew Old Man Merc would send a party at some point. I knew I'd sound like a coward, but like I said, all of a sudden I didn't give a fart for what anyone thought.

"Dev," I says, walkin' straight up to him, "you're right."

"About what, Cal?" he said. He sounded awful tired.

"About me bein' slow. I fired two knives at that feller and

neither one came close. And I was scared out my mind, and I ain't going back."

Dev just looked at me, then he did the damnedest thing— he smiled at me. He stood up and put bis hands on my shoulders and smiled. "Well, bless the Crooked One who looks on all thieves, there's somethin' good come out o' this. Cal-lum's off to find a girl, lads, and live a real life."

And as I looked around the fire they all looked as pleased as they were able that I was leaving. Not much good for my pride, that, but in the time since I've come to think maybe they felt like my living would mean something to their dying, and they feared that would come all too soon. Hask even said, "Kiss her for me, lad, whoever you find." I got up on my horse, and Dev give me a little money to get me to somewhere I could find work. I bade 'em all farewell that very moment, but never a soul among 'em said a single word to wish me on my way.

I've never killed a man, before that night or since, and I've never passed a butcher's stall in a market without hearing that knife cut Jaker's life from him. Old Man Merc was right. I wasn't never meant for that life.

"Lady Rella!" I said, astounded as I recognised her voice. "What wind bloweth thee to this place, in this very moment of our need?"

"Later, Varien. You couldn't take one of their daggers and help me, could you? I'm trying to get the rest of these ropes off young Lanen and my fingers are damn near frozen."

By the time I had found a dagger, Rella had freed Lanen. My dearling was desperate to get back to the stead, for the sounds and the smells that came to us across the fields were terrible. We would have ran at mat moment, but Rella caught me by the shoulder. "A moment, master Varien," she said. "How's your arm? I thought I saw that big bastard hit you."

Her words recalled me to my hurt. "So he did," I replied. Now that my life was not threatened and I could think of it, the wound was indeed painful. "What must I do, Lady?"

"Wait here," said Rella. She ran off but was back in a moment with a dark lantern. She opened the panel and shone the light on my left sleeve, stained dark and damp. "In the

heat of anger I paid it no heed," I said. "What is to be done? I cannot flame it clean."

"Just hold still," said Rella. I was beginning to understand that tone of voice. It indicated forbearance under great strain.

She drew a long strip of cloth from her scrip, and a small pot. Lanen gently pulled back the sleeve of my tunic to reveal a deep cut that still bled. She held my arm still while Rella put a strange paste from the small pot onto the wound, which made it hurt worse than it had before; then she wrapped the strip of cloth around my arm to cover the cut. "Leave that there for at least two days," she said. "It looks clean enough, it should heal well."

"I thank you, Lady," I said, bowing to her in the strange human fashion. It still felt stilted and somehow wrong, but with practice I was becoming better at it.

"Thank me later. Lanen is going to kill us if we don't get back to the stables," said Rella.

"This instant," said Lanen.

We stumbled into a jog-trot as we hurried back. It took us only a few moments to come level with the paddock. As we drew closer I could hear the horses running out their fear, and there was a steady stream now of people—some leading out terrified horses from the other barns, some carrying blankets, some bringing warm water and hot mash, come to bring what comfort they could to the creatures out in the cold. I stopped someone—for the life of me I can't remember who—and told them to start moving the yearlings and the pregnant mares into the summer barn up the hill, it was drafty but it was shelter. They told me Jamie had already told them to do so and when I looked closer I saw a slow line of half-panicked horses being led farther away from the fire, the noise and the smell of the burning.

As we drew nearer to the stead the noise grew louder and the smoke grew thicker, and the smell—dear Goddess, the smell of burnt hair and flesh and hide, it was everywhere, thick and sickening, catching in the throat. My stomach roiled with it but I did not stop, in case there was anything I could yet do. Then above other sounds came what I thought for a moment were the shrill screams of a last dying horse trapped inside the stable. I started shaking, but Varien held me up and told me, "It is the wood, dearling. Believe me, it is the wood." He was right, the sound changed a little and I recognised it as the gigantic version of those strange high-pitched sounds that you sometimes get from a log on a fire. The thick beam of the rooftree cracked as we arrived and I could feel the sound in the soles of my feet. The timber made a terrible racket as it burned, sometimes high-pitched, sometimes low as a ramble of thunder, as if the wood itself were in agony.

I was in the lead when we entered the ordered confusion of the courtyard. It turned out later that my cousin Walther had run a ladder up to the roof of the tack room—the room nearest the fire—and had thrown off the roof tiles, cut a gap in the beams with an axe and thrown water on whatever he could see. He got himself pretty badly burned and the roof had collapsed at that end of the stable, but it was he who had stopped the fire from spreading to the other buildings round about. His lady Alisonde was tending his arms now as he stood in the courtyard shouting orders. The rest of the horses had been taken out and away, and the few of us who were left did what we could, but there was only so much to do. The surviving horses were as well taken care of as we could manage until morning, and the house was safe. We threw buckets and buckets of water on the nearby buildings and doused the sparks that flew in the blessedly light wind, but in the end we could only let the fire burn itself out. Mercifully the trapped horses had died long since, but no one even tried to sleep. Every soul from the stead stood there in the cold, watching until the last of the flames faded just before morning light. The blackened beams glowed demon red from within, and the hot stones cracked loudly as they cooled.

When the walls had grown cool enough and the last of the embers was put out, and we could bear to go inside the ruin of the stable, we found that we had lost eleven of the twenty-four horses. Yet again I felt bile flood the back of my throat at the sight and the smell, that acrid, hideous smell: it hung in the air and clung to my clothes and my boots and the back of my throat, so that I feared I would never be rid of it. By that time, though, we were all so exhausted by sorrow and anger that it felt somehow as if it was happening to someone else, and even the sickness that threatened could not overwhelm.

Jamie was only a little better than me. I had seldom seen him so grim, but when he spoke he surprised me. "It could have been much worse, my girl," he said, standing in the ruin of the ashes, staring at nothing. "I've been through a stable fire before, many years ago, when I lived in the East," he said, and I knew the rough edge to his voice had nothing to do with weariness. "We lost a lot more than half of them that time. Damned if I know what it was, but just before the fire took over at the last, I'd swear that something drew a lot of them out of that barn last night."

Varien said quietly, "Let us be grateful for that mercy, at the least." I wanted to tell Jamie what Varien had done, but I knew my dear one was right to keep silent. How should he claim to have helped with truespeech when there was no proof to any but the two of us?

Meanwhile the morning was wearing on. I went to help Alisonde set about making food and hot drink for everyone, while Jamie and the others saw to the surviving horses, made sure they were fed and warmed and made as comfortable as they could be. The stablehands began the long and grisly job of clearing the burned stable down to the stone. The Healer from the nearest town, who had been sent for at dawn and had finally arrived, began to treat those who were in most need, starting with Walther.

Varien was next. We took the bandage off and the Healer put forth his power willingly, saying as he did so that simple cuts responded far better than burns did, but after just a moment he stared at Varien's arm.

Nothing was happening.

He drew a deep breath and tried again. I had watched Healers working several times and was used to the way the blue glow around them seemed to go into the wound. But it didn't now, not on Varien.

"Have you ever been to a Healer before?" he asked Varien, who of course said he hadn't. The Healer frowned. "I have heard of such things, but I have never come across one such as you. I fear, good sir, that you are a rare case. I have heard of those who cannot be touched by the healing power, and it seems that you are one of them. Thank the Lady you are not too desperately wounded." He leaned over and smelled the salve that Rella had provided. "You are using the right simples, and with time you will heal as well as any—pray forgive me, good sir, but I can do nothing for you, and others require my care." He bowed and moved on to the next who needed his help.

The poor horses that had burned to death were to be buried in one deep grave not far from the north side of the main stead buildings. It was a huge pit, wide and deep, and it took every kind soul who had come from the village to help dig it. With all of us working like madmen it was finished that very afternoon, and the dreadful burned bodies, mercifully covered with rough burlap, were lowered into it as carefully as possible. I had learned that my Shadow, my little mare, had been trapped in the fire. When I thought back I remembered someone shouting something about her, but I had been too distracted to pay much attention at the time. Coward that I am, I was desperately grateful that I could not see through the burlap and did not know which of the shapeless bundles covered her.

It wasn't until we were filling the earth back in that I realised I had been crying gently most of the time. Shadow had been with me for so many years, a friend in a world where friends were scarce. So many of the horses had been under my care, so many I had known and ridden, taught and learned from—so many lost. Oh, Shadow, ever my willing companion. Sleep soft, dear friend. I will miss you.

When the last of the earth was laid on the mound, Jamie came and put his arm around my waist and looked up at me, his red-rimmed eyes locked on mine. I slipped my arm about his shoulders and we turned and walked back to the house together without a word.

I introduced Jamie to Rella in a brief stolen moment, but he didn't hear our full story until that night, when Rella had gone to sleep and the three of us sat exhausted around the kitchen fire. After we had told him what had happened the night before, he demanded to hear everything I knew about her, which I soon realised wasn't much. "We met on the Harvest ship, on the journey out," I told him. "I looked after her when she was poorly and we started talking. We shared a tent at the Harvest camp, when the whole ship's complement was out gathering lansip every waking moment, but I still didn't know much about her until I was in Marik's power. She told me then that she is a Master in the Silent Service, and that Marik was far too bound up with demons for anyone's good. She helped me get away, and when the demon caller caught me again she went to Akor and told him." I put my hand on Jamie's shoulder. "The demons would have had me if it hadn't been for her, Jamie."

"The Silent Service. I see," said Jamie, distantly.

He saw a lot more than I did. I had heard of the Silent Service only once or twice in my life. They are based in Sorun, the great city on the bend of the River Kai. They are the reason for the other half of the saying about the famous port city of Corli: "If you want to know anything, go to Corli; if you want to know everything, go to Sorun." It was said they would find out anything or anyone for a price.

Jamie just stood there, thinking. I couldn't stand it. "For goodness' sake, Jamie, she saved my life again last night!" I said.

He turned to me. "Yes, I know, but I don't know why."

My turn to be surprised. "What?"

"Members of the Silent Service don't give away the time of day if they're standing beside a sundial. Why is she here?"

I frowned at him. "In case you had forgotten, Varien and I saved her life in Corli."

"Yes, and she had saved yours already, helping you escape Marik, calling in the dragons—why, Lanen? Always find the source. Who is paying her fee?"

I realised in the midst of being surprised at his attitude that I was up against my ignorance again. "She couldn't just be a kind soul who's worried about—hmm. I see what you mean." I thought for a moment. "In any case, she certainly saved my life last night. Our lives. Whoever it is wants me living."

"So did Marik," said Jamie tightly. I shivered.

"She can't be working for Marik, she helped me get away from him—"

"No, I never thought that. It's not Marik she's working for. But until we know who it is," he said, taking me by the shoulders, "please, Lanen, a little caution."

I nodded, chastened by my blind acceptance of Rella's goodwill. She was no part of me, true enough, why should she risk her life? Find the source ...

I was torn. I generally trusted Jamie's instincts, but he had not been with us on the Dragon Isle. I was convinced deep down that Rella's heart was true. The Kantri would not have trusted her as they had, Kedra would not have admired her, had she wished me ill.

Varien and I both slept like rocks that night, the night after the fire, and did not wake until midmorning. We rose groggily and met with Jamie and Rella at breakfast. Jamie had posted triple guards round the stead during the night just in case, but they saw and heard nothing.

"I hear that I must thank you for saving Lanen's life, mistress," said Jamie to Rella. "I did not know it in all the confusion yesterday. I owe you a great debt."

"Nothing so great that another cup of chelan and more porridge won't go a long way to pay it," said Rella easily. "I'm starving. That was rough work last night."

"And how long will we have the pleasure of your company?" asked Jamie politely. Well, he tried to sound polite. It has never been one of his strong points. On Jamie it just sounded suspicious.

"I hadn't thought that far, I fear," she replied cheerfully. She looked to me and nodded. "I came here wanting to repay these two for saving my life. I seem to be halfway there at least."

"Well past, Rella," I said, "for we would have both been lost without your help."

"You may consider the debt paid, my girl, but I don't. Not yet. And as I appear to be a free agent at the moment, I will be glad to assist you whatever you decide to do." She looked to Jamie. "If that is acceptable to you, Master. I can see you don't trust me, I'm used to it—a crooked back tends to worry people, after all—"

"Nothing to do with that," said Jamie roughly. "Lanen tells me you're with the Silent Service. I never heard that such people were ever free agents."

Rella laughed at that, loud and long. "Ah, I see! And here I was blaming my poor back for making me look suspicious. No, Master, I won't ask you to trust me, but we are allowed time off from our duties, and I truly owe this pair for my life several times over. Did Lanen never mention her ability to use Farspeech?"