Mary Herbert - Lightning's Daughter

“Nara, are Athlone and Sayyed badly hurt?”

They are exhausted, but will recover, I believe.

Gabria turned her sightless eyes toward the mare. “Your thoughts are strained. You sound weary. Are you all right?”

I am very weak. The strength needed to protect us from the lightning was almost more than I had.

The woman reached out and felt the mare’s strong foreleg. “Thank you, Nara.”

The mare nickered like a gentle laugh . It was a good battle. The gorthling is gone, and we are still here.

Gabria sighed. “What is going on out there? Is a healer coming to help Athlone and Sayyed? Afer’s leg is broken. Is anyone coming to help him?”

Tam answered, her young voice high with anger. “The priests and priestesses will not allow any more uninitiated onto the island, but they won’t cross the river themselves to help. Only the priestess of Amara from your clan had the courage to come.”

Gabria’s anger stirred sluggishly in her thoughts. She and her companions had faced death to save the clans, but now that they needed help, the people would not even come to their aid. Her nausea faded a little, and she sat up straighter, stirred by resentment.

Before she could think of a suitable angry response, an image of what she had done came to her mind. Her anger retreated while she considered how the entire arcane battle must have looked from the clans’ point of view. They were probably terrified out of their wits.

Gabria realized she had an excellent opportunity to make a positive impression on her stubborn, skeptical, suspicious people. They had seen the horror of the gorthling’s cruelty and the terror of his magic. Now she could show them the other side of magic: the pleasure of victory and the comfort of healing.

Strengthened by her resolve, Gabria painfully pulled herself up Nara’s iron-strong foreleg until she was standing, dizzy and gasping, by the mare’s shoulder. The cold rain poured down her face, but she did not care. She concentrated on staying upright, gritting her teeth against the exhaustion that rocked her, and held on grimly to Nara’s mane.

A strong arm was laid across her shoulders and steadied her.

The priestess’s calm voice said, “Gabria, please. You need to rest.”

The sorceress refused. “Not yet. Where is Athlone?”

“I’m here.” Lord Athlone’s voice was strained, but steady. It sounded wonderful to Gabria. He walked wearily around the big mare to say something more and hesitated when he saw Gabria and the strange expression on her face. Her eyes were closed tightly, and her head was tilted to one side in a concentrated effort to hear.

“Are you hurt?” Gabria asked the chieftain.

“Just a knock on the head, but I feel exhausted,” He rubbed his temples and looked around, bleary-eyed. “What happened?”

Tam replied, “The sorceress destroyed Branth with a lightning bolt.”

“Good gods,” he exclaimed.

At that moment, the King Stallion cantered through the water to the island and pranced up to the small group. The Hunnuli herd gathered behind him, their black coats glistening in the rain.

“Athlone,” Gabria whispered. “Help me up.”

Willingly the chieftain gave her a leg up onto Nara’s back and stood aside to watch as the tall, slim woman turned to face the huge stallion.

The black Hunnuli shook his mane. You have done well, Sorceress.

Gabria gestured to the herd. “Thank you for your help. It means more than I can ever say.”

Valorian would be proud . Suddenly he lifted his great nose to her face. His nostrils flared gently . Are your eyes hurt?

“I cannot see,” she said simply.

Athlone felt his heart grow sick.

The lightning’s brightness burned your eyes.

“Will they heal?” Gabria asked with more hope than conviction.

The stallion snorted softly. Perhaps. In time.

She nodded once and changed the subject. “What about Afer? Is there anything we can do?”

At that the King Stallion bowed his head. We Hunnuli can withstand the greatest arcane powers in the universe, but we are as vulnerable to bodily injury as any other horse. Your magic will not affect him, for good or ill, and your healers cannot mend a horse’s broken leg.

Gabria felt her voice choke, and she had to force herself to ask, “Then we must put him out of his misery?”

“No!” Sayyed’s cry echoed through the circle of stones. The tribesman, a rag tied to his bleeding head, was trying to put a temporary splint on the stallion’s broken leg.

Tam quickly went to help her friend as he stepped forward in front of the horse.

“You can’t kill him,” Sayyed said forcefully.

“Sayyed, his leg is broken,” Athlone said, trying not to be harsh. “You know no horse can recover from that.”

“One has! My father’s prize mare. She broke a leg in a race, and my father could not bear to kill her. He suspended her body from a sling until her leg healed enough to bear her weight. It’s not easy, but it can be done. Please,” Sayyed cried, “give him a chance.”

They were silent for a long moment as they thought about the enormity of that task. However, to Gabria and Sayyed, the effort was worth the chance if it would save a Hunnuli.

“We’ll try it,” Gabria said.

Thank you, Sorceress. Then we will gladly leave Afer in your care. The King Stallion lifted his head and neighed a call that rang to the hills and shook the stones of the temple. He lifted his massive body up high to paw the air in a salute of honor to the magic-wielders. The other Hunnuli reared also. Every human watching thrilled to see the majestic Hunnuli at the height of their pride and glory.

As one, the black horses followed the king up out of the river and west toward their home in the mountains. The thunder of their passing faded away into the storm, but the wonder of their presence stayed with the clanspeople for many days to come. Nara, Eurus, and the colt neighed a long farewell.

Gabria’s fingers clenched her pantleg, and tears slipped out of the corners of her closed eyes. She could not see the Hunnuli leave, yet she felt the aching loss of their disappearance.

Abruptly she shook her head to clear her mind. The pain shot through her eyes, and she gasped.

“What is it?” Athlone asked, the worry plain in his words. “Are you truly blind?”

Gabria tried to push the pain aside and smile. “For the moment. It should pass. Can you ride?”

He looked up at her and was not reassured by her off-hand reply. He decided not to push her and merely answered her question. “Yes.”

“Then, come. Tam, Sayyed, you come too. We have to face the clans.”

The others obeyed. Athlone quickly understood what Gabria was trying to accomplish, and he helped Sayyed onto Nara’s back with no further questions. He mounted Eurus, with some difficulty, and waited while Tam scrambled onto the colt. Afer hopped painfully over the short distance to stand between Eurus and Nara.

“Priestess,” Gabria called. “Will you bring the mask?”

The priestess of Amara went to find the death mask of Valorian. At the same time, the eight hostages stopped in front of the magic-wielders. Guthlac saluted his chieftain with respect; Lord Wortan stepped forward and blinked into the rain to look up at Gabria.

“Thank you, Lady,” he said with sincerity. “Is it all right if we go?”

She nodded in his direction.

The eight clanspeople gratefully started out for the river. They walked at first, then their joy and relief broke loose and they ran through the muddy water to the far bank where the crowd of onlookers and their families welcomed them back with open arms.