Andre Norton - The Key of the Keplian

By sunhigh she was far down the mountain trail. With her the Keplian mares paced, the obedient pony following with laden saddle. Eleeri was astride Tharna as the mare pranced smugly. Hylan trotted well ahead, scouting the track as they traveled.

They reached the lower hills without incident and Eleeri halted them to rest. They would wait the night out here; at dawn they could descend the final slopes to meet with her friends at the ford. Several times as they moved she had shot leapers disturbed by the passage of hooves. Now she paused to walk apart. Each time she had bled the beasts, and now she skinned and gutted them quickly. The entrails were buried, the bundle of skins hung high in a tree fork and covered with strong-scented leaves. If she returned safely, she would take them with her. Survival in this land required that nothing be wasted.

Swiftly she placed two of the small bodies on sharpened sticks over the fire that now crackled within a circle of stones. The remainder she jointed and placed in a pot half filled with water. To that she added such greens and herbs as she had. In the morning she would not wish to waste time cooking. But there would be no need; the stew would have simmered all night in preparation for her breakfast. She waited until the leapers were nicely roasted, then she ate, tearing the well-cooked meat from the bones with strong teeth.

In the center of the dozing group she laid out her bedroll and slipped within. Her dreams were vague but ominous. Far Traveler with grave eyes approached, his fingers gesturing warning signs. She saw Cynan and her mind focused, reaching out. He had been her friend for so short a time—but a friend all the same. What had befallen him with her going? Was he still alive? She was certain he was not. Did he, too, come to warn her? The figure faded into hills and she recognized the land about his Karsten hold. She seemed to follow as he made with faltering steps for the small graveyard that held his line.

She saw him reach out to where the flowering bush blazed in glory. The blossoms lit the sunlight to a greater beauty and his lips shaped her name. A small wind blew through the bush and bright blossoms fell to lie sprinkled upon the gray stone. There was a sense of peace, of a long journey accomplished at last. She did not weep then; it would not have felt right to mourn him. He had chosen his own time and trail. In the end he had remembered her. She would remember him. She slipped into a deeper sleep without dreams and woke refreshed. As she ate, she conversed with the four Keplians who were closest to her now.

The breeze blew warm; the sun already betrayed heat to come. She vaulted to Hylan’s warm back and the group trotted down the trail to where the rapids foamed and bubbled. Above them the water purled at the ford. Behind a clump of trees they waited until sounds spoke of their allies’ arrival. Eleeri waved, to be joined by her friends then.

“Let’s not waste time. My men all know what we planned. They have agreed to fight beside the Keplians.”

Eleeri nodded, sending the message to those who waited. Hooves thumped as they swung to the ford. Human riders moved out to join them, those last in line now leading the three ponies hold and canyon had discarded. Eleeri turned back, opening the heavy bundle she had removed from her beast.

“Jerrany, I found this in my keep. It is twin to the one I gave Mayrin. I ask that you wear it. The one who once owned it battled the tower in his time. It would have pleased him to know he has some part in this.” Under her hands the chain shirt fell free, gleaming in the sunlight. There was a subtle shimmer to the metal links, a shifting of colors like oil on water.

Jerrany reached out and donned it wordlessly. He had owned no more than the usual metal rings sewn to leather. But this . . . this was a great gift. How many of these did Eleeri have? he wondered silently. He knew of three now. Were there more yet? But he would not ask. It was enough that they all wore one, and Mayrin was safer so. That was all that was his proper concern. He glanced down, to see that their friend was not quite done.

From the same bundle she now drew daggers. The blades gleamed in the sun, a soft silver glow so that he sucked in his breath sharply.

“Silver?”

She smiled. “Silver and some way of tempering that makes them steel-keen. Wear them. They are doubly dangerous to the Dark.”

He removed his own dagger to replace it with one of the proffered weapons. Mayrin followed suit. His leather ring-sewn shirt he hung on a branch, the daggers hooked into its belt. Then he turned to the waiting Keplian. He bowed and stepped forward. Theela stood as he jumped for her strong back, then as his legs curled about her, she curveted a little, testing his seat. He laughed, stroking the proud black neck.

“I know, I am here only so long as you will it. I’ll remember.” He watched as his wife mounted, the young stallion bending his haunches to sit so she could mount, heavy in her mail.

Eleeri swung onto Hylan, sending him pacing slowly into the rushing stream. In the breast of her mail the thing she had been driven to make lumped uncomfortably. She eased it with a surreptitious hand. They left the stream and ford behind as they struck out in a direct line for the tower. Soon the decoy party would reach the rasti to begin their attack. The attention of the tower would be drawn away. They must make the best time they could without being noticeable until then. Into a growing heat they moved, hearts high.

Far to the northwest ten men-at-arms traveled with eighteen Keplian mares. One of their number was a mere boy who led the three spare mounts. The others were seasoned fighters, but their eyes were nervous as well as alert. Even the blue-eyed Keplian leader failed to completely convince them that their companions were of the Light.

Pehnane was silent. Humans believed as they wished. So long as these fought, he cared not what they thought. He had joined the party just before the humans rode up. It was for him to lead this group to the rasti. Then he would leave to be with the far-daughter. He trotted slowly on toward the territory of the rasti pack. Soon he would be with those he loved.

Now burrows were appearing where the females laired to give birth. The boy’s pony was sidling and stepping higher, nostrils flared. One hind leg slipped into the mouth of a burrow and the pony squealed as it staggered. Unprepared, the boy slid over the heaving shoulder to land flat on his back. Two mares whirled as with a chittering two female rasti hurtled forth to attack. Their teeth were at the boy’s throat as he scrabbled to regain his footing in the rough soil. Before the rasti could sink teeth into the soft flesh, the Keplian mares arrived. Flat-eared heads snaked out to seize, to crush as the rasti were flung backward. Hooves stamped the life from them, satisfaction reaching all who watched.

At the head of the column, a warrior relaxed. These might be odd allies, but allies they were nonetheless. The boy lurched to his feet. Clumsily he bowed low to the mares before remounting his sweating pony. Honor where honor was due—he owed them a debt. The group moved on in better heart, the tenuous beginnings of battle-trust established. Soon they were close to the main burrows where the soil was turned.

In the tower, that which dwelled was enraged. Had he not given orders that strength was not to be futilely wasted? He would punish these fools in such a way they would never forget. He drew on his captive to drive home his wrath on the defiant ones. His attention focused powerfully northward, where in a running battle the Light gave good account of itself.

Both humans and Keplians had followed a suggestion of the war-wise oldest man-at-arms. Now they ducked often into the running water where the rasti could not follow. From there they could emerge to strike again and again. Many showed wounds, but none as yet had fallen. The enraged tower concentrated in an effort to discover the enemy. All its attention flowed outward to the north.