David Weber - War Maid's choice

“I didn’t say I do worry about it,” Leeana pointed out. “I think the halflings do mainly because of the way most of the other Races of Man are…prejudiced against them, I suppose. And I have to point out that what was done to the hradani wasn’t exactly ‘accidental.’ Or done by wizards who gave a single solitary damn about what happened to their victims, for that matter.” Her tone had darkened. “And they’ve paid for the Rage they have now with over twelve hundred years of pure, unmitigated hell.”

‹ True.› Gayrfressa sounded more subdued than usual for a moment, although Leeana doubted it would last. ‹ I didn’t mean to make light of what’s happened to other people, Sister.›

“I know you didn’t, dearheart.” Leeana smiled at her. “I think, though, that you coursers probably got the best deal out of all those…tinkered-with species. And I’m glad you did.”

‹ So am I.› Gayrfressa moved closer, the blue star of her restored right eye gleaming as she reached out to touch Leeana’s left shoulder ever so gently with her nose. ‹ If we hadn’t been “tinkered with,” then you and I would never have met, would we?›

“Not something I like to think about, either,” Leeana told her softly.

She looked into Gayrfressa’s glowing eye for a moment, then turned her head, surveying the endless sea of grass about them. The year had turned unexpectedly dry over the last several weeks, almost as if Chemalka had decided to send the normal rain away to somewhere else, and those tall, wind-nodding waves of grass were browner and dryer than was usual, even for this late in the summer. They shimmered and stirred endlessly under the gentle breeze, entrapping and bewildering the unwary eye.

The Wind Plain was always an easy place for the incautious to get lost, but Leeana knew the area about Kalatha even more intimately than she’d known the land around Balthar. She knew the swells of the ground, the scattered, individual colonies of aspens and birch, the greener lines of tiny streams and seasonal watercourses. She knew where the springs were, and where to find the best spots to camp in all that trackless vastness. And she knew her sky, where the sun was at any given time of day and how to find her way about by its guidance or by the clear, sparkling stars that blazed down through the Wind Plain’s thin, crystalline air like Silendros’ own diadem. She didn’t really have to think about it to know where she was in relationship to Kalatha…or to realize it was about time they turned for home.

She rather regretted that, and she knew Boots would, too. She made it a point to ride the gelding at least three times a week, and he spent his days in an open field, bounded by the river, with ready access to field shelter. Gayrfressa shared the same field with him, although unlike Boots she was as adroit at opening the gate in the fence around it as any two-foot and came and went as she willed. The manager of the city livery stable had helped erect the shelters in return for permission to put a half dozen other horses whose owners preferred to keep them at grass into the field with Boots, which gave him plenty of company. With the extra horses to play with, he was self-exercised enough to keep him fit, but Leeana didn’t ride him only to exercise him. He needed the time with her, just as she needed it with him, and in an odd sort of way, the hours she spent on Gayrfressa’s back only made riding him even more enjoyable. Her bond with Gayrfressa was so deep they truly were one creature; with Boots she had to work at that kind of fusion, and that made her appreciate it even more deeply.

“Time to head back,” she said more than a little regretfully. “I’ve got the duty tonight, and I owe him a good grooming.”

‹ Handy to have around, you two-foots, when it comes to things like that,› Gayrfressa observed with a deep, silent chuckle.

“‘Handy’ is it?” Leeana retorted, wincing at the deliberate pun, and Gayrfressa tossed her head in an equine shrug. “I’ll figure out a way to make you pay for that one.”

‹ I see why Brandark feels so unappreciated around him,› the courser said mournfully, and Leeana laughed.

“Well, either way, we need to be getting back to town,” she pointed out, and reined Boots around.

The gelding clearly understood what she had in mind…and equally clearly was in no hurry to get back to his field. Playing tag with the other horses was all very well, but he was enjoying himself too much to end his afternoon with his rider any sooner than he had to. Leeana smiled down at his ears as he tossed his head, sidestepping and expressing his reluctance with an eloquence which needed no words.

“Sorry, love,” she told him, reaching down to pat him on the shoulder. “Erlis is going to be irked if I don’t get back on time today.”

‹I think everybody in Kalatha is “irked” at the moment, › Gayrfressa put in. ‹ Or perhaps the word I really want is worried. On edge? Or is there another two-foot word that comes closer?›

“I think either of them comes close enough,” Leeana replied after a moment. “It would help if Shahana knew why she was here!”

Gayrfressa blew heavily in agreement. The arm had arrived in Kalatha the day before, accompanied by a twenty-man-and woman-mounted platoon from the rebuilt Quaysar Temple Guard. Their appearance had taken the entire town by surprise and sparked more than a little anxiety, especially when Shahana couldn’t explain why Lillinara had chosen to send them in the first place. Leeana’s husband had had rather more practice at being moved about in response to divine direction than most, and even she found the arm’s arrival…disconcerting. For those without her own secondhand experience, Gayrfressa’s “worried” probably came a lot closer than “disconcerted.”

“At least if it’s worrying us I’m sure it’s worrying Trisu even more,” she said with a slow grin. “And anything that worries him is worthwhile, as far as I’m concerned!”

‹ Isn’t that just a little petty of you?›

“Of course not! It’s a lot petty of me, and that only makes it even more enjoyable from my perspective. It’s a two-foot thing.”

‹ You wish,› Gayrfressa told her. ‹ The truth is — ›

She broke off suddenly and stopped in mid stride. Her head snapped up, her remaining ear pointing sharply as she turned to her left, and her nostrils flared.

“What?” Leeana demanded, halting Boots instantly.

‹ Smoke. Grass smoke.›

Gayrfressa’s mental voice was brittle with tension, and Leeana’s spine stiffened with matching alarm. The tall, browning grass was rustling tinder, more than dry enough to feed the rolling maelstrom of a prairie fire, and the breeze would push any fire directly towards Kalatha. Every child of the Wind Plain knew what that could mean, and while a courser might outrun the holocaust’s outriders, all too many of its creatures couldn’t.

“Where? Can you tell how far away?”

‹ Close… too close, › Gayrfressa replied, but there was a new note in her mental voice. The alarm was colored by another emotion-surprise. Or perhaps confusion.

“What is it?” Leeana asked, frowning as she tasted her four-footed sister’s perplexity.

‹ Why didn’t I scent it on the way out?› Gayrfressa asked, her ear shifting, and her head rose higher as she sniffed the breeze even more deeply.

“Probably because it hadn’t caught yet,” Leeana replied.

‹ And did you hear any thunderstorms or lightning strikes to set it after we passed?› Gayrfressa demanded.

“Well…no,” Leeana admitted.

‹ Neither did I. I think we’d better look into this, Sister.›

“So do I. You’re the one with the keen sense of smell, though.”