The Key of the Keplian

5

Behind her Eleeri spun her mount, then froze him with a mental command. Her hands moved even faster as bowstring snapped taut and arrow flew. She had always had an eye for bow skill, but the years of Far Traveler’s teaching and her own hours of practice had refined this even more. Now she shot, whipped another arrow to bow, and shot again. The men who fronted the frantic mare went down. Neither was dead, not for those fractions of a second before Tharna reached them. After that they were not only dead but bloodily so.

Gerae had seen them fall. He fled—at the fastest speed he could goad his mount to attaining. But arrows fly faster. Tharna had started after him, and as he slid limply from his racing horse, she reached him with teeth and hooves. Not until the body was all but shredded did she desist. Hylan stood by. To a small colt untouched, it was all very exciting, but he was hungry again. He whickered hopefully.

His mother leaped for him, running her muzzle over his body. He was uninjured. She swung her hindquarters to allow him to nurse and stood, deeply contented. The girl approached and Tharna made an ugly sound, a kind of low snarling.

Eleeri looked into her eyes. They blazed a terrible red. She’d never really noticed that before. But now that she thought of it, the mare’s eyes had always had a reddish cast. Oh, well, Tharna wasn’t a horse; it was probably the Keplian eye color. She moved forward, crooning to the colt. Her mind reached out to her friend as she did so.

Tharna was off guard mentally. For the first time the girl’s mind penetrated her surface thoughts. She swayed in shock. Ka-dih, what was this one to whom Eleeri had given friendship? A roiling maelstrom of emotion met her startled mind. Different. Terrifying. She disciplined herself. This was Tharna. They had traveled together, cared for Hylan together, fought to guard one another. This was a Keplian, she reminded herself, not a horse; she must accept Tharna’s differences and cherish the friend in her.

As she struggled, the mare stood motionless, waiting, poised like a predator. With a wild effort, Eleeri subdued her fears and walked forward.

“Battle-sister, is Hylan unhurt?”

A vast surprise enveloped her so that she halted. Her emotion? No, it was the mare’s emotions she felt. She lifted a slow hand to stroke the mane out of her friend’s eyes.

“What is all this surprise, and is Hylan unhurt?”

The mare found mind-voice. *My son is uninjured, thanks to you and your arrows. But—* she faltered, *you still wish to travel with me?*

“How not?”

*You touched my mind truly. I felt it, I felt your shock, your fear. Others of your kind have done this and always they have then turned against us to kill. Will you now hate me and mine, seek to slay?* She peered down thoughtfully. *Once, when I thought of this, I wondered if reaching our inner minds sent humans mad. Humans hate and fear us as it is. Maybe to know us is to fear us even more.* Her skin shivered.

Eleeri reached out again. This time, knowing what seethed below the surface thought, she was able to control her instinctive fear. Gradually she made sense of the seething power, the blazing emotions, finding they quietened as she did so. It was as if her own lessening of fear soothed the mare’s. Using that knowledge, she smoothed out their emotions until both were calm again. She stood thinking as the colt nursed.

“Tharna, it seems to me that we act on each other.”

The fine powerful head above her nodded.

Eleeri leaned against a warm shoulder, absently stroking it. “That first contact with your mind was terrible. But when I thrust away fear and returned, it was no longer so frightening. Now, as my mind touches yours without fear, your mind, too, is calm.” She deepened the bond slowly and spoke then, asking the question she had thought before.

“Are you of the Dark, battle-sister? I do not think so, but those others did.”

The mare shook her head and stamped a hoof, bringing a squeal of indignation from the foal. He hadn’t finished yet. His mother should remain still.

*We are not born to the Dark, only to shade and shadow. Some make the choice to join wholly with the Dark, others do not. Long ago when the adepts warred, we were made. Why, we do not know. They made other races, too.

*Many of the stallions turn to the Dark, fewer mares. Our males are more warlike. The stallions resent humans, I think, for their fears, their hates, and for all that humans seem to have.*

“Would you turn to the Dark?”

The mare lowered her head to Eleeri’s shoulder. *Not now, battle-sister. You killed your own to save mine.* A soft nose brushed against a softer cheek. *I have always refused to speak your name. Now I do. Eleeri I name you. Battle-sister you have named me. Do you also name me as friend?*

The girl’s hands smoothed the warm hide. “I do so. Neither un-friend nor half-friend are you, but friend. Sister-kin, if you will accept it so, and kin to the small one.”

Acceptance and a shy pleasure radiated from the mare. Arms about the muscled neck, Eleeri stood for long minutes, savoring the communion. She loved horses, but they could only fill her loneliness so far. But this, this was fullness. A kin-sister, a friend, one to speak with who could reply. One to care for who cared in return. She pushed herself away and took down the bag where she kept her herbs.

“A good sister would care for your wounds.” She brushed on the soothing juices with gentle fingers. Her hands admired the powerful muscles, the sleek hide, the arched and flowing mane and tail.

Under twin pleasures of hand and mind, the mare relaxed, savoring the first deep communion she had ever enjoyed. Friendship wove its way through her being. Only with her mother had she felt this acceptance before. She felt the bitterness drain away, her hatred of humans who condemned what they could not understand. This one was not like that. This one had faced all she found, and accepted.

She felt as if she floated, trusting, serene. Long moments slipped by. She loved this one, battle-sister, friend, kin-kind. The Dark whispered to her—and was rejected. Who had need of such a night when sunlight beckoned? Besides, she knew well that always the Dark betrayed. So many of her kind had been seduced by its wiles, and lived only long enough to regret that seduction. She would not be one; she was shade and shadow, but not the Dark, never the Dark now that she understood the Light.

In perfect accord, the three set out on the last mile to the river. Hylan did not understand what had happened. He only knew that his mother and friend were happy. It was enough.

*Do we cross the river or follow it?* Tharna queried, scanning the plain doubtfully. In her mind Eleeri saw pictures of the Gray Ones who often roamed this area.

“If this is their place, best we get away. From your mind they’re no respecters of either of our kinds.”

They trotted hurriedly along the riverbank. No crossing could be seen and the water ran deep and strongly.

“Do you know this area well?”

Tharna shook her head. *I think the river runs far. It comes from the western mountains, and I have heard of a lake somewhere to the west also. The Gray Ones avoid the area; there are ruins there which are un-friend to their kind.*

“Good. Then we’ll go that way,” Eleeri said practically. “Any place they don’t like should be right for us.” She headed her mount upriver and the Keplians followed.

Now travel together was delight. They explored each other’s ideas and the mare heard much of what a different world could be like. About them the scenery was unchanging.

Eleeri had time to muse upon Tharna’s mind-pictures of the Gray Ones and what Cynan had said of them. It was possible Tharna’s enmity for the creatures colored her impressions to some extent. Still, Eleeri thought, they did not attract her as any kind of ally. They walked upright in a slouch. The head was narrow, with tooth-filled mouth and small red eyes gleaming from shaggy, dirt-matted gray fur. From Tharna’s memories Eleeri knew the brutes to be intelligent. Well, they could speak but rarely did. Their habits were such as to disgust most intelligent beings. They wore no clothes, nor did they carry weapons.

They were fighters if brought to bay, or in the grip of battle-madness. Otherwise they preferred to fight only when the odds were strongly in their favor. Like much of the Dark, they feared to cross running water. Until blood-mad, they would hold back from that.

Since they were nearing Gray One territory, Eleeri kept her bow ready now. Beside her the mare, too, was thinking. The way she and the human seemed to agree interested her oddly. The Keplians had no real legends of origin. There were only vague beliefs that they had been created by adepts during the ancient wars. Some had believed horses to have been the basis for that creation. They had been slain if they voiced that belief, though. No stallion would endure the idea. Yet it felt so comfortable to walk beside this human. So peaceful.

She watched the plodding pony. What would it feel like to bear a human like that? Not with saddle and bridle, but bare of back, feeling every shift and sway of the human’s body? She thrust the idea away, concentrating on Eleeri’s enjoyment of the day instead. She could read some of that. The river flowing by in crystal ripples, the stones’ gray hues, the brown of river earth showing in patches where stones had shifted. Shrubs and often large clumps of trees provided shade and shelter for many bright birds. For the first time Tharna found beauty pointed out to her, a mutual delight.

Their thoughts flowed together more casually now as they found pleasure in each other’s company. Hylan, too, seemed to be gaining in intelligence. The mare wondered about that. Could it be that such communion allowed him to find potential denied to others of his sex? Stallions mated and fought—that was their destiny. But was it? She followed the horse as her mind grappled with new ideas. She was certain that no one of her kind had ever been friend and sister-kin to a human before. Or if they had, it was time out of mind ago. No legends existed of this. No human had ever been moved to accept a Keplian as friend; always before they had fled or given battle when minds touched.

But this one had done more. And it was as if Eleeri’s acceptance of Tharna had opened new doors within the mare. As if—as if it were right that they be friends. The Great Ones of old had designed Keplians. Had it been for this, to walk as their friends? The human—no, Eleeri—admired her friend’s beauty and strength. She spoke with pride that Tharna could outspeed the horse. There was love and friendship in her mind whenever she turned to Tharna or Hylan. Was this how it had once been intended to be?

The mare did not know, but she knew that this idea pleased her. Her kind lived in isolation even among themselves. A mare would fight savagely for her foal, but only as long as he suckled. After that, he was ignored. Would she cease to love Hylan once he grew?

She shivered her skin, to chase away the idea as she would a fly. Never. She would love her son as long as they both lived. Her head came up and, feeling the sunlight on her back, she leaped, twisting into the air. It felt good to unkink powerful muscles. She thrust up again and with a baby squeal of excitement Hylan followed suit.

Eleeri looked back and laughed as the Keplians bucked and bounced in the clear air. With their friendship assured, it was wonderful how Tharna had become almost a different being. The colt, too, was growing, in mind abilities as well as size.

*Race you to the river!*

They had drifted away as the water curved slowly to their right. Now hooves pounded as horse and rider, with the Keplian mare before them, thundered toward the line of trees again. Hylan fell back, baby legs unable to keep up with even a horse as yet. His indignant cry was lost in the drum roll of hooves. They halted at the river and drank while Eleeri puttered along the bank watching the current.

“Does a stream run from this to the lake?”

*As I remember, it does,* Tharna responded.

“Well, we’ll stay this side of the river until we reach it. The stream should be shallower and so should the river, once we’ve passed the lake. We may be able to find a ford then.”

The Keplian stared out across the water. It was true they could not risk crossing yet. Hylan was too weak to risk him in such a current. But the river was slackening; if it continued to do so, they might be able to risk a crossing soon. She would be happy to be out of the Gray Ones’ territory. More than one Keplian foal had fallen to their teeth, even mares weakened by birthing or accident. She sent agreement and wandered on along the water’s edge.

Hylan arrived then and she licked him lovingly. He was so strong, so beautiful. Altogether a marvelous son—there had never been such a one, so wise and so clever. She followed the water and Hylan trailed his mother as Eleeri remounted. Their pace was slow. Not that the land was so rough, but large thickets of brush were now appearing along the riverbank. Rather than force passage, the friends were detouring around these, and each took them farther from the river until they found a path back.

The brush was a nuisance, the girl thought. But it was beautiful. The leaves were a light and silvery green. Berries grew in bird-appreciated profusion, and many species feasted merrily. She leaned down to pluck handfuls for herself after checking with Tharna. The ripe globes burst sweetly in her mouth. They had the smallest touch of tartness to their taste, just enough to quench thirst as well as hunger. She ate as they traveled, and when the bushes began to thin out, she dismounted. To the surprise of the Keplian mare, her friend now dug in the earth by a bush.

*What is it that you do?*

The girl looked up and grinned. “These berries are wonderful. I don’t know where we’re going, but I thought it’d be nice to have them when we get there.”

As she spoke, she was carefully separating several tiny runners from their mother. She had dug out the turf in which their roots were encased and now she tucked plants and earth securely into a saddlebag. Tharna looked on, eyes wide with interest and amusement. Humans: no wonder the world changed about them. It would never have occurred to a Keplian to do that, even if they could. Yet why not? Would it not be useful to have food where you wished it?

They paced on, following the life-giving water. As Hylan tired, they rested; with the night they slept. Time had no meaning beyond that. Rain drove them to shelter until it passed, then they moved on again. As they waited, Eleeri had chosen sticks. Now as she rode she smoothed the shafts, looking them over carefully and discarding a few. Two of the arrows she had shot at Gerae and his companions had been broken in their fall. The third Tharna had broken in her haste to ensure the man’s death. There would be other dangers; best she had a good supply of arrows. She worked as she rode; with Tharna ahead, the horse would merely follow.

Within two more days her quiver was full. She continued to work. It was not hard to do; she could converse with her friends as well. But once an enemy was sighted, there would be no time to make weapons.

Later she believed that something must have warned her. The impulse to make the arrows had been so strong. By the time they were attacked, she had more than three dozen riding in quiver and bedroll. Just after daylight they paused as Tharna mind-sent.

*Danger, sister-kin. The scent of Gray Ones comes to me on the breeze. They track us swiftly.*

Eleeri sent her mount into a slow trot. “How far ahead is the lake stream, do you think?”

*Last time the wind blew from there, it was far yet. But that was a day’s travel ago. I think by now it is close, although the smell blows away from us. What should we do?*

Eleeri thought quickly. It was the art of a warrior to make such decisions based on little knowledge and yet be correct. She spoke and the Keplians obeyed. Hylan leaped into a canter, running ahead of his dam and her friend. He could mind-send some distance by now, sufficient for them to know what was ahead. With luck, the pursuing pack would see that the adults kept to a steady pace, and assume the foal merely played.

Hylan raced up the shallow rise ahead, scanned the land before him with staring eyes. Down a long slope the lake glinted ahead under the sun. A stream lightly tumbled to it from the lustier river. He sent that and ran on.

The stream could be crossed near its junction with the lake. The water was deep, but the adults would be able to forge passage; it was not that strong a current. He stood there waiting. His family was some way back by now and could not be contacted.

Within the trees the Gray Ones trotted more quickly. Ahead their prey was dawdling. They could come up with them soon, then the feasting. There were more than a dozen of the pursuers. They could overcome any miserable Keplian and human. Their mouths watered. The foal would be the most tender; the mare’s despair would spice the dish. They hurried on.

Eleeri had held to the slow trot. It covered ground without tiring them, but kept them ahead. A quick flicker of her eyes to the rear and she saw that those who followed were closer. Still she kept to the pose of unwariness. Tharna crested the rise and as they started down the long slope, both received Hylan’s mind-picture.

As one they leaped forward, linked in battle plan. The thunder of hooves spurred the Gray Ones to hot pursuit, but the companions were minutes ahead as they reached Hylan and stream. With flying fingers, Eleeri detached her stirrup leathers, buckling them together and looping them about the foal’s belly. Then she thrust her mount forward into the water, Hylan at his side. The support would keep him close, keep his head above the water as they swam.

At the stream Tharna turned at bay. She would hold the Gray Ones while her foal crossed. It looked as if there had once been a ford here, but either the water was higher than usual or it had altered over time. Now the water was deep enough to force Eleeri and her mount to swim, but there was still one advantage left to them. Along the stream banks, thorn bushes grew thickly; only at the ford was there a clear space to the water.

Perhaps in another place the bushes thinned, but the pursuers seemed disinclined to search it out. Tharna stood before the gap, hooves at the ready, teeth bared. Eleeri was pressing her mount as hard as was safe. Even with the thorns protecting her flanks, the mare was in a lot of trouble; those wolf things hadn’t looked like pushovers to her. She splashed up the far bank, reached down to release the foal, and swung her horse back to the water. For a brief moment she sat to assess the situation.

Tharna was holding them. Not easily, but the hunt was unwilling to risk her teeth and hooves. Still the sounds were becoming more frenzied. Soon they would work themselves into a killing rage in which even death did not matter to them. If only Eleeri could break them before that occurred.

She heeled the horse downstream, where she could see the Gray Ones better and at an angle to the mare. Good. The bushes were low enough so that from the bank where it rose a little on this side, she could get a shot. She drew her bow, strung an arrow, waited as she breathed in, then loosed.

Before the hunt could react, another arrow was already in the air, then another. Thanks be to Ka-dih for driving her to making these. Crude they might be, but they carried well enough and shot straight over this slight distance. They also killed, as the Gray Ones could now attest. Within minutes four of their number were dead, three more wounded. It was enough for the pack. With yelps and threats, they withdrew. As Tharna swam to join her, Eleeri kept watch.

“What do we do about them? Will they follow?”

The mare snorted to clear her nostrils. *I think it unlikely. We have cost them dear and they like to fight only when the odds favor them. What they may do is alert any of their kind on this side. Best we leave swiftly and hide our trail if we can.*

Eleeri eyed her. Foam spattered sleek black flanks, blood dappled lower chest and one leg.

“What sort of shape are you in if we do have to run for it again?”

*If we must, we must. I’ll keep up.*

The girl snorted in turn. “I’d feel happier if we cleaned you up first. Rest while I do it, then we can move on. Besides, I think Hylan is hungry.”

The foal proved that at once as he slid around his mother’s hindquarters, settling to nurse. Carefully Eleeri swabbed at the slight wounds marring Tharna’s hide. They were shallow, but— a thought occurred to her.

“Tharna, those wolf-people, um—you don’t get anything from their bites, do you?”

The mare looked bemused. With that question had come a very odd mind-picture of her turning into a Gray One herself.

*What is it you fear?*

Eleeri felt a little foolish, but better safe than sorry. “Well, in my world there are tales. That one who is bitten by a being like that will become one each full moon.”

The mare felt a painful sensation in her chest. A constriction—her breathing began to choke—then she was making a terrible squealing whinnying sound.

Eleeri leaped forward in despair—it was happening. Oh, gods, there must be something she could do. Tharna pushed her back with a soft nose and stood head hanging down. In high indignation the girl suddenly realized that the mare was laughing. She relaxed. She’d never heard such a sound before, but her own mouth curved into a grin as minds met.

“So it doesn’t happen here. I get it.”

*Oh, sister-kin. It is as well. What a thing it would be if the Gray Ones could increase their numbers in such a way. But no, the only thing that their bites do is kill you if they go deep enough. These are shallow wounds, slashes more than bites. You have cleaned them, so they will not fester. Hylan has rested and drunk; let us go now.*

Eleeri mounted and sat a moment surveying the land within eyeshot. The lake was veiled in a faint mist; something told her they should travel away from it. She nudged her mount upstream and studied the river. It was shallower after the loss of the stream water. If it continued to grow shallow, they would be able to cross it with care in a few more miles. The land was beginning to rise again very slowly. Ahead lay more mountains, deeply scored by canyons and ridges. Her heart yearned toward them.

She turned back to her friend. “Is there a direction you’d prefer?”

*None. Make a decision for us, battle-sister.*

Wordlessly Eleeri looked forward to the mountains. They called; she would answer. Within them it might be that they would find a place to shelter. If nothing else, they would find places to hold off Gray Ones who came hunting. Her mind settled as she kicked the horse forward. It would be the mountains.

The mare and foal fell in behind her as she rode. Unconsciously the girl had mind-sent as emotion touched her. They, too, were drawn by the mountains now. The tiny group trotted forward, leaving the stream and lake behind them. On their right the river tumbled, bright glittering water over black rock rapids.

Soon they would have to cross it before it shifted in the half circle that would drive them back to the lowlands. They reached the fork by nightfall. Eleeri reached for her stirrup leathers again and called Hylan. Tharna was puzzled.

*Why cross now?*

“Old saying: cross rivers before you sleep.”

The mare looked even more puzzled and the girl sent her a swift succession of mind-pictures. Of rivers that rose in the night and could no longer be forded. Of enemies who struck at a sleeping camp, leaving warriors with their backs to a river and no place to retreat safely. The mare nodded silently; agreement flashed between them. With the foal safely secured, they swam the shallow branch. It was close to dusk and they walked on to look over the other fork. There, too, the water was low.

They hesitated at its brink. To sleep here within the forks was to have a secure camp. Eleeri glanced thoughtfully at the banks and bushes. They could camp in that clump of high brush and be screened from casual view. There were large heaps of old dry wood along the riverside, tossed up by ancient floods. If she prepared a fire, it could be lit if danger threatened. Her suggestion was approved and even Hylan aided in gathering the logs. With that in place as darkness fell, all felt more secure. The wood was old and tinder dry. It would flame at the very breath of fire, and Eleeri’s lighter was always nearby.

Great dark masses against the half-lit sky and stars, the mountains loomed. The girl lay looking up at them and wondering what had happened to her over the last year. She glanced down at her watch. It ran on a long-life battery and still worked. She peered closer and smothered a sudden laugh. Today had been her birthday. She was seventeen today.

She drifted off to sleep, still smiling. It had been some birthday, running from werewolves in the company of a couple of talking horses. This last year had been a lulu. She couldn’t wait to find out what the next might hold. It wouldn’t be boring. . . . She giggled drowsily and sleep came down like a cloak.