shook its head as I got closer, and buried its nose in my hair and took a deep breath. The hairs on its muzzle tickled my neck. I tried to move away, but the horse followed, breathing out and in again, filling my hair with its warm sweet breath.
"He likes you." Marcus had handed off the packhorse to another warrior, and now sat astride his horse, with a shield on his back and a sword at his side. He looked my animal over with a considering eye. "A good, steady animal. You shouldn't have a problem with him."
Which I took to mean that the animal would be slow, and one a sick granny couldn't fall off of.
But at least I wasn't being toted around like a sack of flour anymore. I pulled myself into the saddle, noticing that this horse had a number of scrapes and scars on its legs and hindquarters.
He'd seen quite a bit of action in his day. "What is his name?"
"Name?" Marcus gave me a funny look. "We call them 'horses'."
The others moved in around me. I noticed that Marcus placed himself so that his blind side was covered by Isdra. "I know they are horses, Marcus. What is this one's name?"
"I suppose you will now tell me that city dwellers name all their horses." Marcus rolled his eye, and the others chuckled.
I closed my mouth.
"Tens of thousands of horses," Marcus continued, "and we should name them all. Pah."
Rafe laughed out loud. "Now tell all, Marcus. We name stallions and mares."
"Lead stallions. Lead mares. Not entire herds." Marcus gave my horse a withering glance. Its ears were flicking back and forth, as if following the conversation.
"But how do you tell them apart? Or get them to come to you?" I asked as I mounted.
"What's to tell?" Marcus asked. "Rafe's black, Prest's brown with the notched ear, Isdra's roan with the scarred whither. And they come because that is the way of things. And while you might think so, they don't all look alike. Any more than people do."
I gave him a look, and would have asked more, but I was interrupted. "We're to move to the center, Warprize." Epor's tone was firm.
"I understand." We headed out to join the main body of the army. "How far to the village?"
"Not far," Isdra replied. "The Warlord will take the warforce and form up before they send Rafe to the gates."
"He will send word, Warprize." Marcus added.
Resigned, I nodded, and concentrated on guiding my mount.
We traveled for sometime before we passed a stone pillar, about waist high, with a hollowed top, which marked the boundary of the lands claimed by the village. A glint of light off the tip caught my eye. It could just be rainwater, but…
I tugged on the reins and started to work my way through the other warriors, urging my horse into the gaps between riders. He went willingly, shouldering aside the ones too slow to get out of our way. There was some loud swearing behind me, Epor from the sound of it, but I didn't stop. Marcus, too, was cursing, but it was too late for him to try and stop me. I broke through the line of warriors and turned my horse back. Urging him to a canter, I headed back to the pillar. Marcus and Prest were behind me, I could hear them urging their horses on.
I reached the stone to see that the hollow was filled to the brim. I didn't bother to dismount, just leaned over and dipped my fingers in the fluid. If it was water, well and good. But it hadn't rained, and…
Breathing hard, I lifted my fingers, and the tang of vinegar filled my nose, making my eyes water. Vinegar, one of the strongest cleansers known. Vinegar, which, when placed in the hollow of a boundary stone, turned it into something else entirely.
"… one rock, one arrow, one word ..." Keir's voice rang in my head. Goddess, I had to reach him before it was too late. I yanked my horse's head around, forgetting to be gentle. The horse fought me, tossing its head in protest, but it turned nonetheless. Marcus and Prest came up, their faces drawn into scowls, their horses snorting in protest.
"Warprize," Marcus started, but I
"He likes you." Marcus had handed off the packhorse to another warrior, and now sat astride his horse, with a shield on his back and a sword at his side. He looked my animal over with a considering eye. "A good, steady animal. You shouldn't have a problem with him."
Which I took to mean that the animal would be slow, and one a sick granny couldn't fall off of.
But at least I wasn't being toted around like a sack of flour anymore. I pulled myself into the saddle, noticing that this horse had a number of scrapes and scars on its legs and hindquarters.
He'd seen quite a bit of action in his day. "What is his name?"
"Name?" Marcus gave me a funny look. "We call them 'horses'."
The others moved in around me. I noticed that Marcus placed himself so that his blind side was covered by Isdra. "I know they are horses, Marcus. What is this one's name?"
"I suppose you will now tell me that city dwellers name all their horses." Marcus rolled his eye, and the others chuckled.
I closed my mouth.
"Tens of thousands of horses," Marcus continued, "and we should name them all. Pah."
Rafe laughed out loud. "Now tell all, Marcus. We name stallions and mares."
"Lead stallions. Lead mares. Not entire herds." Marcus gave my horse a withering glance. Its ears were flicking back and forth, as if following the conversation.
"But how do you tell them apart? Or get them to come to you?" I asked as I mounted.
"What's to tell?" Marcus asked. "Rafe's black, Prest's brown with the notched ear, Isdra's roan with the scarred whither. And they come because that is the way of things. And while you might think so, they don't all look alike. Any more than people do."
I gave him a look, and would have asked more, but I was interrupted. "We're to move to the center, Warprize." Epor's tone was firm.
"I understand." We headed out to join the main body of the army. "How far to the village?"
"Not far," Isdra replied. "The Warlord will take the warforce and form up before they send Rafe to the gates."
"He will send word, Warprize." Marcus added.
Resigned, I nodded, and concentrated on guiding my mount.
We traveled for sometime before we passed a stone pillar, about waist high, with a hollowed top, which marked the boundary of the lands claimed by the village. A glint of light off the tip caught my eye. It could just be rainwater, but…
I tugged on the reins and started to work my way through the other warriors, urging my horse into the gaps between riders. He went willingly, shouldering aside the ones too slow to get out of our way. There was some loud swearing behind me, Epor from the sound of it, but I didn't stop. Marcus, too, was cursing, but it was too late for him to try and stop me. I broke through the line of warriors and turned my horse back. Urging him to a canter, I headed back to the pillar. Marcus and Prest were behind me, I could hear them urging their horses on.
I reached the stone to see that the hollow was filled to the brim. I didn't bother to dismount, just leaned over and dipped my fingers in the fluid. If it was water, well and good. But it hadn't rained, and…
Breathing hard, I lifted my fingers, and the tang of vinegar filled my nose, making my eyes water. Vinegar, one of the strongest cleansers known. Vinegar, which, when placed in the hollow of a boundary stone, turned it into something else entirely.
"… one rock, one arrow, one word ..." Keir's voice rang in my head. Goddess, I had to reach him before it was too late. I yanked my horse's head around, forgetting to be gentle. The horse fought me, tossing its head in protest, but it turned nonetheless. Marcus and Prest came up, their faces drawn into scowls, their horses snorting in protest.
"Warprize," Marcus started, but I
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