Wolf Captured (66 page)
He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a faint hoot in reply.
As always, Eshinarvash had stopped where there was grass and fresh water. Derian made a fire, set the rabbits on a spit above the fire, and did a bit of foraging while waiting for them to cook. When he finished eating, he looked at the Wise Horse.
“It’s well into day now. Do we head back right away or wait until later?”
Eshinarvash stared at him, chewing slowly, his liquid brown gaze seeming mildly reproachful. Derian realized he’d asked a question that couldn’t be answered with either yes or no.
“Are we going back immediately?”
Eshinarvash shook his head.
Derian decided he might as well get some sleep. He was making himself as comfortable as possible on a mat of oak leaves when a thought occurred to him.
“Will we be going back?”
Eshinarvash nodded.
“Soon?”
Nod.
Derian decided to try something. “I’m going to make some suggestions as to when we might leave. Just nod if I get close.”
Eshinarvash snorted in a fashion that reminded Derian rather oddly of how Firekeeper reacted to human inquisitiveness.
“Look,” he said, “I’m not arguing, I just want to know. Humans are herd animals only to a point.”
Another snort. This one sounded more amused than annoted.
“Right. It’s morning now. Will we leave this morning? Noon? After noon?”
This last elicited a nod.
“Soon after noon? Midafternoon?”
Nod.
“So you’re looking to bring me back after dark,” Derian guessed. Probably don’t want anyone to see me come back with you.”
Nod.
“Any ideas what I should tell them to explain my vanishing?”
He hadn’t expected an answer, but to his astonishment Eshinarvash looked at him, then rather dramatically limped a few paces. Then he lifted his foot as he had learned to do when Derian wanted to check his hoof for a stone.
“You’re suggesting I tell them that you came to get me because you …”
Snort. Violent shaking of head.
“Because one of the Wise Horses had something wrong—maybe with his leg?”
Nod.
Derian thought for a moment.
“That could work—especially if no one asks too many questions. A leg or hoof injury would explain why the horse wouldn’t come on his own. Why me? Well, I’m the idiot who goes out every morning in hopes of seeing the Wise Horses. I was available. And if anyone pushes too hard, I can tell them that I think you horses wanted a closer look at me as much as I did at you. I think I can seem appropriately embarrassed.”
Derian sighed. He didn’t like lying, but knew perfectly well that there were times when only a lie would protect the innocent. He’d lied to protect considerably less honorable enterprises, now that he came to think about it.
“I can pull it off,” he assured Eshinarvash, “but I’m going to need to confide in someone. There’s simply no way I can accuse one of u-Liall without some support.”
Eshinarvash nodded and then went back to grazing. Derian had the feeling that the horse was tired of talking. Fine. He could wait, at least for a while. He couldn’t help but think it would be nice to talk to someone who could answer more than yes or no.
DERIAN WALKED UP to the ikidisdu’s residence at u-Bishinti at dusk, near the hour that would usually find Varjuna’s family scattered to their own activities. The two younger sons would be occupied with their studies. If Poshtuvanu had come to have dinner with his parents, he would have long ago returned to the dormitory where he lived with other newly made kidisdu. Unless some emergency called them away, Varjuna and Zira would be sitting together on the east-facing porch, where they could enjoy the breeze off the ocean.
With this in mind, Derian planned to find his hosts on the porch, make his apologies, and reserve explanations until they could speak in some place more secure from the chance of being overheard. When he approached the sprawling house, he immediately abandoned this plan. Lights burning in areas of the house that would usually be dark at this hour told him that the normal patterns had been broken.
Although he was weary and aching from the better part of two days spent riding bareback, Derian quickened his pace. He had a feeling that the reason for this unexpected disruption was his own absence, and the sooner he assured his hosts of his safety, the sooner everyone could relax.
Though they’ll relax only to face a worse problem than a wandering northerner
, Derian thought ruefully,
but there’s no helping that.
He had almost reached the front door of the house when a voice spoke out of the darkness.
“Derian? Is that you?” Poshtuvanu called softly, his voice pulled tense between hope and dread.
“It’s me,” Derian assured him. “Sorry to have caused such trouble.”
Poshtuvanu hurried to meet him.
“If the Wise Horse came for you, you had no choice. Earth and Air be praised that you are safe. The omens were anything but clear—even when old Meiyal did the readings herself.”
Derian had been introduced to the iaridisdu of the Horse and knew all too well the importance that had been attached to his disappearance if Meiyal herself had done the reading. Not only was the iaridisdu physically fragile, but in anticipation of an honorable retirement she had begun to delegate all but the ceremonies of highest consequence over to her subordinates.
Poshtuvanu went on, “They’re all in my father’s study. I was about to walk back to my dormitory when I thought I saw someone coming up the path. It’s rather dark to tell, but it looked like you. Didn’t walk like you, quite, so I didn’t say anything.”
All the time he’d been talking, Poshtuvanu had been leading the way into the house and down the wide corridors to Varjuna’s office. Now he flung open the door.
“Father, Derian’s come back.”
With those words, Poshtuvanu ushered Derian in, then followed after. There was a general hubbub of greetings and exclamations over which Zira’s voice rang clearest.
“You look exhausted, Derian. Sit down. Have something to drink and eat—or would you prefer a bath first?”
Derian wanted a bath and a change of clothes, but he wouldn’t leave his hosts waiting and wondering—especially not after he noticed old Meiyal sitting huddled in one of the high-backed chairs. She, Varjuna, Zira, and Poshtuvanu were the only ones present.
“Something to drink would be welcome,” he said, “and to eat, eventually. I can make do with sugared nuts, even. I was taken good care of.”
“Taken care of?” asked Varjuna. “By the Wise Horses?”
“By them,” Derian said, “and others.”
A cool drink redolent of mint and fruit nectar was pressed into his hand and he drank thirstily before continuing.
“It’s a long story,” he warned, “and not one for all ears.”
“Our younger sons were scheduled to go on a packing trip to u-Vreeheera,” Zira replied, “and we encouraged them to go as planned. They wanted to stay, but we told them that we were certain you were fine, and that the story of where Eshinarvash had taken you would only get better for the wait.”
Derian was relieved. He knew that Varjuna and Zira usually dispensed with servants after the evening meal had been cleaned up, so except for whatever servants Iaridisdu Meiyal had brought with her, the house should be empty. He had already decided to trust the iaridisdu with his tale. Not only could she have not been among the number at the temple last night—the ride would have been far too taxing for her—he knew Varjuna respected her deeply and would want to consult her before taking any action.
“You got my message, then,” he said. “Prahini’s well?”
Varjuna nodded. “She came down to the stables just as you thought she would. The kidisdu who saw her wandering about delivered your message directly to me. He was so determined to be discreet he clipped it from her forelock.”
“The hair will grow again,” Derian said, absently, his thoughts elsewhere. “Did you receive any other copy of the message? I sent two.”
Varjuna nodded, his expression heavy with puzzlement.
“I found a second copy on my desk. It was rather mutilated, but readable.”
“When you did not come back by afternoon,” Zira said, “and the Wise Horses were being singularly uncommunicative, we decided to consult Meiyal. She consulted the resident horses in Heeranenahalm and was concerned when the omens were ambiguous, so she came here to see if the Wise Horses would say more to her.”
Meiyal spoke, her voice as dry as a cricket’s chirp, but just as musical.
“They were quite difficult,” she said with a chuckle, “and so I remained. I am glad I did so, for now I can hear your tale—that is if you trust me with it.”
“I do,” Derian said, coloring. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. However, once you’ve heard what I have to say, I think you’ll understand why careful consideration needs to be taken before it goes any farther. In fact, can we be overheard from here?”
Zira shook her head. “Not unless someone is prowling out in the dark.”
Poshtuvanu had been leaning against a wall, listening with interest.
“I can take a look,” he said, “and then maybe I had better leave. Clearly these are matters beyond a mere kidisdu.”
Meiyal waved her hand. “If Derian has no problem with Poshtuvanu remaining, I certainly have none.”
Varjuna looked at Derian. “Nor do I, but the decision as to who stays and who goes is Derian’s.”
Derian hated what he had to do, but he had to be certain. Poshtuvanu was young and strong enough to have made the trip to the ceremony last night and to have gotten back in time to not be missed at his duties. Moreover, he stayed with his parents just frequently enough that if he were not at the dormitory he would be assumed to be at the ikidisdu’s residence.
“Where were you last night?” he asked.
Poshtuvanu looked startled. “Here, actually. My father asked me to stay in case news about you turned up and he needed another pair of hands.”
“I’m not as young as I once was,” Varjuna said, “and the younger boys were gone.”
“Good, then,” Derian said. “Take that look around outside, then come back and hear what I have to say. You’ll hear soon enough why I had to ask, and I apologize in advance for doing so.”
While they were still sorting out that strange statement, Derian took a moment to go rinse his face with cool water. Then, when Poshtuvanu returned and assured them that all was quiet, Derian launched into his account. He moved quickly through the first part, but skipped nothing, including how the various yarimaimalom had cooperated to provide him with food, and how the great cats had escorted him to the ceremony. When he reached the point where he must describe what he had seen, he paused.
“Now comes the hard part,” he said. “I’m going to try and tell it without saying what I thought about it—just what I saw. When I’m done, well, then I’ve some questions for you.”
Derian had never had a better audience. They listened attentively, not asking even a single question, though from the way Zira folded down the fingers in one hand as if counting, she, at least, would have a few. When he finished, though, it was Meiyal who spoke first.
“You are certain it was Dantarahma you saw?”
“I am.”
Meiyal sighed. “I wish I were surprised, but for many years Dantarahma has been eager for reform. I think he believed that when the former ahmyndisdu died, one who thought as he did would be appointed to u-Liall, for the omens indicated great changes were upon us. Then Tiridanti was anointed. She and Dantarahma were, well, like Fire and Water. They can hardly bear to be in the same room together. I thought—as I think many thought—that Dantarahma had accepted the omens. Now I see he has not.”
Varjuna rose and began pacing the long end of the room.
“What are we to do?”
Zira interrupted before Meiyal could reply.
“We can do nothing tonight,” she said firmly, “and will do less than nothing if we exhaust ourselves. Let us sleep on this matter and speak of it to no one.”
“I won’t,” Poshtuvanu said. “Do you want me to stay here or go down to the dormitory?”
“Enough people heard about Prahini returning without her rider,” Varjuna said, “that I think it would be wise for them to hear he has returned well and safe. Derian, have you given any thought to how we might explain your absence?”
Derian sketched out the tale he and Eshinarvash had worked out regarding a Wise Horse with an injured hoof.
“It will do,” Varjuna said. “Poshtuvanu, go to your dormitory and pass that on to any who ask—and a few who do not ask. Gossip travels on galloping hooves. The tale will be to those who care to know in Heeranenahalm with the morning milk. If I have not contacted you otherwise, come back when your morning tasks are completed. We may well need you.”
Meiyal nodded her agreement.
“Lack of sleep will make us take poor counsel. I will go to my rooms and pray for guidance.” She pushed herself to her feet using the arms of the chair and looked up at Derian. “Sleep well, young man. You’ve had a rough time. I only wish I believed that the worst was behind you.”
