The Wyrmling Horde (16 page)

It took a moment for the sisters to calm themselves, and Rhianna merely circled patiently as the camp quieted. “I come in the name of Clan Connal,” she cried. “I come in peace. I have forcibles to trade, if you want them.”

The women raised a cheer, and dozens of them backed away from the fire, giving her a clear landing site.

Rhianna plummeted from the sky, and then beat her wings hastily as she neared ground. She felt thankful that in the end, her landing was not as clumsy as most.

The horse-sisters peered at her in wonder. “I was born to Clan Connal,” Rhianna said. “I am Rhianna Connal, daughter of Erin.”

The leader of the horse-sisters stepped forward, a woman in lacquered leather mail, with a small round ornate helm, crusted with precious stones along the brim. Her long red hair flowed loose at the back, and she bore a red lance—the symbol of her ascendancy in the clan.

“I knew a Rhianna Connal as a child,” she said suspiciously. “But she did not have wings.”

Rhianna wondered how to explain her wings. If the horse-sisters knew that they were a magical artifact, that they could be removed only after Rhianna's death, it might invite someone to hasten her demise. But these were horse-sisters, not some brutish warlords from Internook.

“Much has changed with the binding of the worlds,” Rhianna said, offering the first evasion that came to mind.

There were grunts of assent from the women. “Yes,” their leader said. “Our lands were once vast plains fit only for horses. Now shaggy elephants range here in great herds, and the grass is going bad. There is a blight upon the land. There are mountains and canyons where there should be none, and there are giants in the land. Do you know the cause of these things?”

Rhianna nodded. “The Earth King's son, Fallion Orden,
is a flameweaver of great power. He tried to bind the worlds into one, to create a better one. But you see the results.

“I've come to bring you warning. The world has changed. There is a great evil to the east, wyrmling warriors, giants with pale white skin. They pose a threat unlike any that the world has known.”

The women muttered, and many of them looked as if they would run to their horses, prepare for battle.

“We have already met their like,” one of the horse-sisters said.

“But not all of my news is ill,” Rhianna said. “There is blood metal in this new land, enough to make the horse-sisters of Fleeds the mightiest nation on Earth!”

The horse-sisters cheered, and Rhianna saw toddlers at the edge of the tents leaping for joy, though they did not understand the cause of the celebration. She knew from that alone that she had them.

The generosity of the horse-sisters exceeded anything that Rhianna could have imagined.

She had hoped for a decent meal. Instead they brought her a feast of sweet lamb, delicately spiced and cooked on skewers, followed by summer melons, hearty brown bread, and a pudding made from horse milk, sweetened with honey and cumin.

She had hoped for a trough to wash in. The horse-sisters brought her warmed rose water, and young women made a game of bathing her.

She had hoped for a piece of safe ground to lie on. They offered her silken pillows in their tent.

Well had Thull-turock spoken when he had told Rhianna that though Fallion Orden had no friends in the world, “You should be able to buy the friends you want with those forcibles.”

It was nearly dawn when the feasting was done and the festivities finished. Many of the clan had gone to bed, but others lingered beside the campfire as Rhianna told her
tale—beginning with her birth, her mother's flight from the dungeons of Crowthen, and Rhianna's betrayal and capture by her father. She told of her flight beyond the Ends of the Earth in order to escape the assassins that hounded Fallion, and she told of his return to Mystarria, the binding of the worlds, and his battle with the wyrmlings and his capture by the Knights Eternal.

To Rhianna her own tale sounded like something from an ancient fable, not the life that she had lived. But she had her proofs—the wings that she wore, the scar from the forcible when she was forced to give an endowment of wit to a sea ape.

Clan Connal was well known here. Erin's grandmother had been a queen, and though the horse-sisters formed a matriarchal society, their royal station was not inherited. Instead a leader was chosen every generation based upon merit alone. So though Erin had no special rights as an heir, her lineage was held in high esteem.

The current leader, Sister Daughtry, listened to Rhianna's wild tale, ending at last with her quest to raise aid from the warlords of Internook, beastly and ravenous men who would not stir themselves to save the Earth King's heir. So Rhianna had come home.

“You chose wisely,” Sister Daughtry said at last. “The warlords of Internook have the hearts of swine—more than most men. They are not to be trusted.” She glanced patronizingly toward her own lover, a tall man in fine livery who stood guard just outside the fire.

“Some men can be trusted,” Rhianna countered. “The Earth King could be trusted, as can his son Fallion.”

“The Earth King was more than a man,” Sister Daughtry said. “He was a force of nature—as steady and reliable as the sun, rounding in its course.” She looked penetratingly at Rhianna. “You love this Fallion Orden, don't you?”

“More than I can say. More than you will ever know.”

“Love him then,” Sister Daughtry warned, “but do not trust him completely. He is a man, like all others, subject to
an inborn urge for conquest and domination, but with too little in the way of wisdom or compassion.”

“Men are not alone in having a grasping nature,” Rhianna argued gently.

“Still,” Sister Daughtry countered, “your Fallion may have good intentions, but look at the harm he has wrought.”

Rhianna could not help but notice how she referred to Fallion as
your Fallion,
as if Rhianna had already put a bridle on him, claiming him as her own.

If only life were so easy, she thought. But Fallion was not from the horse clans. He would not have accepted such a gesture on her part, and she doubted that she would ever share his love. He was a noble, and thus would save himself for a royal match with a woman of similar birth. He had made that clear to her before. No matter what his feelings for her, too much was at stake.

Sister Daughtry reached down to the fire where a pot of warm water was brewing, and poured some into a clay mug. A serving man stepped forward and dropped in a twisted brown vanilla bean and a couple of leaves rolled into a pearl. Sister Daughtry gave the goblet to Rhianna, and she held it for a moment, letting the flavors mix. It seemed a lifetime ago since she had tasted plains tea.

Overhead a sea of stars drifted among gauzy clouds. The moon was in full retreat tonight, and did not favor them with even the smallest sickle. Out on the prairie, a hunting cat roared, and at the pickets, some horses nickered in fear.

“You have blood mounts in your herd,” Rhianna said, still surprised at this strange turn.

“The Earth King warned us to bring them into our herds a decade ago, even as he died. He warned the folk of Carris to flee, too, and for a decade we have wondered why. Now, with the great change, the reavers have emerged from the Underworld again. Our scouts say that a host of them is heading north.”

“Reavers?” Rhianna said. It was a word that struck dread in her heart. She reasoned, “With the earthquakes and shifts
in landscape, it only makes sense that the reavers would be riled.”

“Take a hornet's nest, shake it up, and beat it with a stick—and you will get some idea of how our reavers are acting. My scouts say that not a stone of the city is left standing—not that there is any harm. The whole region has become infested with strengi-saats, and is as bare of meat as a well-chewed bone. Now the reavers are stirred up, and may be coming this way.”

Rhianna consulted a mental map. If the reavers were heading from the southeast to the northwest, they could easily miss the camp by miles. “With any luck, they'll bypass you and march right into the wyrmlings' fortress at Rugassa.”

“One can only hope,” Sister Daughtry said. “It wouldn't hurt if these reavers were to club a few wyrmlings for us.”

Rhianna wondered. Could Gaborn have been preparing the horse-sisters to battle the wyrmlings by having them buy mounts? Could he have really sensed the danger to Carris so many years ago?

She couldn't imagine that.

And yet . . . it made perfect sense. The horse-sisters were renowned for their ability to fight on horseback, with either the lance or the bow. They would need blood mounts with perfect night vision if they were to defeat the wyrmling horde.

Of course, one could not discount Carris and Gaborn's warning to evacuate.

I was so wrong about Gaborn, Rhianna thought. He died years ago, but he has not left us.

The very thought gave Rhianna a thrill of hope.

I was right to come here, she thought. The Earth King is still with us, and watching over us as best he can. He trusts the horse-sisters, and so can I.

“You are far out of your own territories,” Rhianna said. “Aren't these Lowicker's lands?”

“There was a prairie fire this summer,” Sister Daughtry explained. “It burned much of our lands. Beldinook sold us grazing rights for the fall—at the cost of much gold.”

Rhianna wondered at this. Relations had not been so friendly between the two countries a decade ago. But perhaps they were not friendly now, either. There was an edge to Sister Daughtry's voice, a tone of anger or outrage.

Rhianna felt sure that there was more to the story, but Sister Daughtry changed the subject. “These giants that you warned us of, the wyrmlings. Should we kill them on sight, or can we reason with them?”

“Not all wyrmlings are evil,” Rhianna suggested. “I saw defectors at Caer Luciare—spies that worked for High King Urstone. But I do not know if you will be able to speak to them, for their tongue is strange, a combination of grunts and barks and growls.”

There was a long moment of silence as Sister Daughtry thought.

“So, will you help Fallion, then?” Rhianna pressed.

“You spoke of a trade,” Sister Daughtry said. “Is this the coin you want in return for forcibles—the rescue of your mate?”

“It is in part,” Rhianna said. “I offer you a great treasure, but in making the offer, I ask that you act responsibly. The whole world will have need of forcibles—not just the horse-sisters, but all of the world, including the kingdoms of men.

“The horse-sisters have not been treated well in the past. Your people were once the poorest of all, at least when wealth is measured in forcibles. But soon you may be the richest. I know where a vast treasure lies, and I will lead the way to it, but I do so in fear and trembling at the thought of what may follow. I would ask that you not take vengeance for ancient wrongs, but share your power with what decent men you can find.”

“Spoken like a true leader,” Daughtry said. “You never met your grandmother, but I think that she would have been proud.” She sighed deeply. “I will honor your wishes. Lead us to this mountain of blood metal, and we will free your lover. And we will share this treasure with the good men of the world.”

Rhianna smiled wryly, and tested her. “Do you think there are any good men left in the world?”

Sister Daughtry reached down and picked up a stick, poked the stump of a burning log, moved it deeper into the embers.

“The Knights Equitable are all gone,” Daughtry said. “They were good men, for the most part. But the Brotherhood of the Wolf remains. Though the warlords of Internook may hold our world by the throat, it is rumored that good men still fight them in secret, as best they can. Scoundrels among the warlords, the worst of them, often end up murdered, their throats slit as they lie in drunken stupors, or they find themselves ambushed while off on one of their little jaunts a-whoring. It is only because of the Brotherhood that the thugs from Internook show any restraint at all. I suppose that it is time for the horse-sisters to join their cause.”

Rhianna considered her words. The Brotherhood of the Wolf had been formed under Gaborn's patronage, and had been a powerful force for good ten years back. It seemed that once again the Earth King was watching over them.

Good omens all.

So she reached across the fire to shake, clasping hands at the wrist, and thus sealed the bargain.

“A force of heroes is gathering,” Rhianna said, “preparing to breach the wyrmling stronghold in order to free Fallion Orden, along with Prince Areth Sul Urstone. They may need your help. They may need Dedicates.”

“We can find Dedicates,” Sister Daughtry said. “But I ask one thing in return—parity. If we are to empower men, we must also empower our women to the same extent. I demand that a horse-sister be allowed to join this company of heroes. She should be granted great power.”

Rhianna bit her lip. It was obvious what Daughtry wanted—her own set of endowments.

“I trust that the horse-sisters have chosen wisely,” Rhianna said. “Your skills in battle along with your wisdom
have earned your people's trust—and mine. Go with the rescue party. Lead it if you like. I would give you my own endowment, if I could.”

But of course, Rhianna had granted an endowment when she was young, and thus could never do so again. Even the most talented facilitator could not draw a second attribute from a Dedicate.

The knowledge saddened Rhianna, for she desperately wanted to help.

Sister Daughtry smiled. “Oh, I was not asking for me. I'm thinking that
you
should be the horse-sister to go. Don't you agree?”

Rhianna was stunned. She had imagined that if she made this bargain, the forcibles would be granted to some powerful lord, skilled in war, hungry for power. She never imagined that she would be granted so much as a single endowment. “I, uh, why me?”