leave her.”
“What hast thou done, my son? This changes everything.” Cedric was grim. “Thou must go on. Matre Lorelei shalt send someone to aid the girl. I give thee my word. She canst hold on. Long enough for what must come.”
The pressure eased enough to breathe. Above them, gliding on the currents, a buff-colored eagle screamed her defiance at the world of men.
Loren’s hand tightened around the long-knife at his hip. Moira fled to the clans. Jalad would comb the countryside for her, torch everything. Anyone aiding her would be put to the sword. He must go on, find Moira. He knew that. But his heart warred with his head. Never had he been so…fractured.
Xavier’s voice returned Loren to the here-and-now. “My lord, we must keep going.”
The white mare burst into a flat-out run. They plunged through the deepening twilight. Soon they arrived in Jakop’s Crossroads and slid to a halt afore the public livery stable doors.
The stable master himself limped toward them. “Auger Xavier, how may I assist?”
Loren caught a sense of horror and grief at Xavier’s appearance. Of the stable master himself, a sense of underlying honor and honesty. This was a true Eagle. “We need a swift horse with strong legs and good lungs that can go cross-country. Time presses us.”
The man nodded. “Mountain hunter’s what ye need. I’ve a gelding should suit.” He led them to the second stall.
Ignoring the plain head, lop ears and shaggy beginnings of a winter coat, Loren took in the short back, deep chest and straight legs, the ripple of muscles in shoulder and hindquarters, the large nostrils and how the head joined to the neck for unrestricted breathing. This was no parade horse but an athlete, made to run. “How much?”
“We’ve no use fer Jalad here.” The stable master’s eyes narrowed. “Ye ride fer King Hengist, I’ll charge not a brass farthing.”
Loren handed Xavier a bronze knife as the stable master saddled the gelding. “Stay off roads. Take my provisions.”
The seer tucked the knife into a sheath in his right boot. “Just because I’ve read about snaring rabbits doesn’t mean I can do it.”
The stable master led the gelding out. Loren transferred all of his trail rations to one set of saddlebags, securing them behind Xavier’s saddle.
“What’s his name?” the seer asked.
“Manu. Means ‘bird’ in th’ lost tongue. He’s trained t’ locate w-a-t-e-r on command. I included a fire startin’ kit.” He turned to Loren. “Ye ride north fer Queen Moira?”
Loren frowned. “Where did you come by such a notion?”
The man snorted. “Look fer stone ruins along th’ edge of th’ Great Marsh. Th’ clans camp there when they travel. She may need th’ sacred spots.”
Loren nodded. “I shall keep that in mind.”
Xavier hauled himself into the saddle and gathered the reins. Manu tossed his head and pawed the ground.
“Go,” Loren told him. “Every hour counts.”
Manu sprang into an erratic gallop. In moments, a cloud of dust was all that remained.
Loren leaped into Hani`ena’s saddle. “Be on your guard. The Boars shall make their way here.”
“Th’ children act as lookouts up on the hill. We’ll flee into th’ Great Marsh when th’ enemy comes, an’ burn this village t’ th’ ground afore we go.” His gaze was steady.
“What is your name?”
“Artur Barach.”
The hero of Fortune Fields. He had saved Hengist’s life, nearly at the cost of his own, as northern raiders from the Isle of Ice slew King Zarek and made his teenage son king. Artur would no more betray Hengist than Loren would.
“I am honored to make your acquaintance, sir.”
“I almost died that day,” Artur stated. “Caught a mornin’ star in th’ side of me helmet, what gave me this left-side stiffness an’ me musterin’-out pay. King Hengist’s top healer saved me life. Sheena Kahn Androcles. Her daughter Dara looks t’ follow in her footsteps.”
Just the mention of her
“What hast thou done, my son? This changes everything.” Cedric was grim. “Thou must go on. Matre Lorelei shalt send someone to aid the girl. I give thee my word. She canst hold on. Long enough for what must come.”
The pressure eased enough to breathe. Above them, gliding on the currents, a buff-colored eagle screamed her defiance at the world of men.
Loren’s hand tightened around the long-knife at his hip. Moira fled to the clans. Jalad would comb the countryside for her, torch everything. Anyone aiding her would be put to the sword. He must go on, find Moira. He knew that. But his heart warred with his head. Never had he been so…fractured.
Xavier’s voice returned Loren to the here-and-now. “My lord, we must keep going.”
The white mare burst into a flat-out run. They plunged through the deepening twilight. Soon they arrived in Jakop’s Crossroads and slid to a halt afore the public livery stable doors.
The stable master himself limped toward them. “Auger Xavier, how may I assist?”
Loren caught a sense of horror and grief at Xavier’s appearance. Of the stable master himself, a sense of underlying honor and honesty. This was a true Eagle. “We need a swift horse with strong legs and good lungs that can go cross-country. Time presses us.”
The man nodded. “Mountain hunter’s what ye need. I’ve a gelding should suit.” He led them to the second stall.
Ignoring the plain head, lop ears and shaggy beginnings of a winter coat, Loren took in the short back, deep chest and straight legs, the ripple of muscles in shoulder and hindquarters, the large nostrils and how the head joined to the neck for unrestricted breathing. This was no parade horse but an athlete, made to run. “How much?”
“We’ve no use fer Jalad here.” The stable master’s eyes narrowed. “Ye ride fer King Hengist, I’ll charge not a brass farthing.”
Loren handed Xavier a bronze knife as the stable master saddled the gelding. “Stay off roads. Take my provisions.”
The seer tucked the knife into a sheath in his right boot. “Just because I’ve read about snaring rabbits doesn’t mean I can do it.”
The stable master led the gelding out. Loren transferred all of his trail rations to one set of saddlebags, securing them behind Xavier’s saddle.
“What’s his name?” the seer asked.
“Manu. Means ‘bird’ in th’ lost tongue. He’s trained t’ locate w-a-t-e-r on command. I included a fire startin’ kit.” He turned to Loren. “Ye ride north fer Queen Moira?”
Loren frowned. “Where did you come by such a notion?”
The man snorted. “Look fer stone ruins along th’ edge of th’ Great Marsh. Th’ clans camp there when they travel. She may need th’ sacred spots.”
Loren nodded. “I shall keep that in mind.”
Xavier hauled himself into the saddle and gathered the reins. Manu tossed his head and pawed the ground.
“Go,” Loren told him. “Every hour counts.”
Manu sprang into an erratic gallop. In moments, a cloud of dust was all that remained.
Loren leaped into Hani`ena’s saddle. “Be on your guard. The Boars shall make their way here.”
“Th’ children act as lookouts up on the hill. We’ll flee into th’ Great Marsh when th’ enemy comes, an’ burn this village t’ th’ ground afore we go.” His gaze was steady.
“What is your name?”
“Artur Barach.”
The hero of Fortune Fields. He had saved Hengist’s life, nearly at the cost of his own, as northern raiders from the Isle of Ice slew King Zarek and made his teenage son king. Artur would no more betray Hengist than Loren would.
“I am honored to make your acquaintance, sir.”
“I almost died that day,” Artur stated. “Caught a mornin’ star in th’ side of me helmet, what gave me this left-side stiffness an’ me musterin’-out pay. King Hengist’s top healer saved me life. Sheena Kahn Androcles. Her daughter Dara looks t’ follow in her footsteps.”
Just the mention of her
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