By the Sword (43 page)

The woman pulled her hood back up over her head, and rode off across the meadow.

Kero let out the breath she'd been holding.

Eldan put his arm across her shoulders and hugged her wordlessly. She snuggled into his shoulder for a moment, content just to enjoy it, and his warm presence.

But her mind wouldn't stop operating.

Some of that was to be expected; they were right on the Border now, and there were regular Border patrols all the time. Eldan had mentioned that, and mentioned, too, how he'd avoided them in the past. But he had not mentioned ever seeing the clergy out on these hunts before, an omission Kero found interesting.

But although he was trying to pretend that this kind of activity was entirely normal, it was fairly obvious that he was worried. Quite worried.

Which meant that a good number of these patrols were new, and probably called out to find them.

He knew the priestesses were able to pick up something about them, but he didn't know what, and so far Kero had been able to keep Need's abilities from him. So far he hadn't asked any awkward questions, and so far he didn't seem to have made the connection that only the female clergy were detecting whatever it was. It helped that he seemed utterly incurious at moments when she'd have expected a barrage of questions. That was odd, but no odder than the fact that she was literally unable to talk about anything involving real magic to him. Absolutely, physically, unable. Shed tried, and in the end, couldn't get the words out of her mouth.

She suspected Need had a hand in both those conditions, though she had no idea what it was doing, or why. But she was getting used to that.

She didn't
like
it, but she was getting used to it.

And it was doubtless the fact that Need was attuned to women's problems that was the reason for the priestesses detecting her, and not the priests.

That maddeningly logical part of her kept right on reasoning as she tried to enjoy the moment with his arm around her.
We've had three narrow escapes, it said,
scoldingly.
Each one got narrower than the one before it. There's no doubt about it: Need is bringing in the priestesses. We're never going to make it across the Border together.

He'd given his word to send her his ransom, and she had every reason to believe his word was good. She had no logical reason why she should stay with him. In fact, if she wanted to ensure his survival, she
should
leave him. With the target traveling westward, this little section of the Border should be empty long enough for him to get across.

She inched back into the cave, grating along the sandstone, with a hollow feeling in the bottom of her stomach. She'd known all along she was going to have to face this moment, but that didn't make it any easier now that it was here.

She stood up and dusted herself off once inside. It would be stolen rations tonight, Karsite rations. One of those narrow escapes had been just this morning, and had ended in the death of the scout who'd discovered them making their way across the ridge. His body was in a tiny hollow just below the trail, stuffed into a cavelet barely big enough to conceal him. His horse had been run off in a state of sheer animal panic, thanks to Eldan. His rations now resided in their saddlebags. Eldan had been a little squeamish about robbing the dead, but she'd just taken everything useful without a comment, and after a moment, he'd done the same.

Eldan joined her back in the tiny cave. There was just barely enough room for them and the horses, though she could never bring herself to think of Ratha as a “horse.” She never looked at him without a feeling of surprise that there was a “horse” standing there, and not another human.

Eldan handed her a strip of dried meat. She accepted it, and pulled her water skin out of the pile of her belongings.

“So,” he said, around a mouthful of the tough, tasteless stuff, “It looks like tomorrow isn't going to be a good day to try a crossing.”

She swallowed her own mouthful. It had the consistency of old shoes, and was about as appetizing. She found herself longing for the Skybolts' trail-rations, something she'd never have anticipated doing. At least those had been edible.

“We probably ought to hole up here for a while,” she offered, feeling her heart sink and tears threaten at the lie. “Probably they'll give up when they don't find anything, and leave this area clear for us to make a try.”

Eldan nodded. “That sounds right. And we've got supplies enough. All we need is water, and one of us can go down after it about midnight.”

“I'll do that tonight,” she replied. “I'm better at night-moves than you are.”

He smiled in the way that made her blood heat. “I'll agree to that,” he said huskily. “And we've got all day to wait. What do you say to doing something to make the time pass a little faster?”

“Yes,” she said simply, and reached for him even as he reached for her, desperation making her want him all the more. For this would be the last time, the very last time....

She shielded her thoughts and exercised every wile she had to exhaust him, both out of a desire for him that made her ache all over, and out of the need to make him sleep so deeply that little would wake him—and certainly not her departure.

Then she dozed in his arms, wanting to weep, and far too tired to do so.

Finally the sun set, and she woke out of a restless half-sleep full of uneasy dreams, fragments of things that made no sense.

She extracted herself from his embrace without making him stir, packed up her things, and waited while the sky darkened and the rising moon illuminated the meadow below. Tears kept blurring her vision as they trickled unheeded down her cheeks. She wasn't even going to get to say “good-bye.”

She'd left a note for him, on top of the remaining rations, advising him to stay where he was for as long as they held out, then make his crossing attempt. She told him that she loved him more than she could ever tell him—and dearest gods, those words had been hard to write—and she told him that she could not go with him. “We're too different,” she'd said. “And we're too smart not to know that. So—I took the coward's way out of this. I admit it; I'm running away. Besides, I hate saying good-bye. And don't you forget you owe me; I have to replace my gear somehow!”

She didn't look back at him, where he was curled up against the back wall of the cave; that would only make it harder to leave. Instead, she saddled Hellsbane and strapped on the packs, then led her toward the mouth of the cave, knowing that the familiar sound of hooves on rock would never wake him.

But Ratha was suddenly
there,
between her and the entrance, blocking her way.

Before she could react to that, a strange voice echoed in the back of her mind.
: Where are you going?:
it said sternly,
:And why are you leaving in stealth?:

She gulped, too startled by this sudden manifestation of Ratha's powers to do anything more than stare. But the Companion did not move, and finally she was forced to answer him.

Mindspeech was
not
what she would have chosen if she'd been offered a choice, but if she spoke aloud, she might wake Eldan, and then she'd never be able to leave him.... So although it made her stomach roil to answer the Companion that way, she ordered her thoughts and “spoke” as clearly as Warrl had taught her.

:I have to go,:
she told Ratha.
:I'm putting Eldan in danger while I'm with him.:

:He was in danger when you found him,:
the Companion pointed out with remorseless logic.
:What difference does your leaving make?:

She took a deep breath, and rubbed her arms to get rid of the chill this conversation was giving her.
:It's the sword,:
she said finally. :It‘s
magic, and I'm fairly sure that's what has brought the hunt down on us. More than that, it is magic that only works for a woman, which may be why the priestesses are involved. And it's very
powerful,
I really don't know how powerful.:

The Companion's blue eyes held her without a struggle.
:So,:
Ratha said finally.
:Your sword must be attracting these women. I agree that may be why no priests have hit on the trail. Why not abandon it?:

:True.:
Ratha seemed to look on her with a little more favor.
:And by taking this sword of yours away, the hunters all follow you, and you leave the Border here open to our crossing. You sacrifice your safety for ours, becoming a target leading away from us.:

:I think so,:
she said with a sigh.
:I hope so. I'm going to double back to Menmellith, which would have been our logical move if we 'd been blocked here. That should make sense to them, and since they've been following the sword and not an actual trail, they'll follow me and ignore you.:

The Companion nodded.
:You are very wise
—
and braver than I thought. Thank you.:

He moved
out
of the
way,
and she
led Hellsbane past him, onto the narrow ledge and the path that led up to it, still refusing to look back.

:Good luck,:
she heard behind her as she emerged into the moon-flooded night.
:May the gods of your choice work on your behalf, Kerowyn. You are deserving of such favor. And may we all one day meet again.:

That started the tears going again; she blinked her eyes clear enough to see the path, but no more. She had to move slowly, because she was feeling her way, and she was profoundly grateful that Hellsbane was surefooted and
could
see the path. She couldn't stop crying until she'd reached the ridge above the cave. There, she took several deep breaths, and forced herself to stare up at the stars until she got herself under control.

She closed her eyes, and rubbed them with the back of her hand, until the last trace of tears and grit was gone. Then she set Hellsbane's nose westward, and descended the ridge, heading for Menmellith. Soon the hunters would be following, and she needed a head start.

 

I've done brighter things in my life than this,
she thought, cowering in the shadow of a huge boulder and wishing that she wasn't quite so exposed on the top of this ridge. But this was the only place she had been able to find that had any cover at all, and she had to see down her backtrail. Without Eldan, and his ability to look through the eyes of the animals about him, she was finding herself more than a bit handicapped.

The hunters had found her in the middle of the night, as she crossed from the heavy oak-and-pine forests into pine-and-scrub. She'd felt those unseen “eyes” on her just about at midnight, and this time they hadn't gone away until she had crossed and recrossed a stream, hoping the old saw about “magic can't cross running water” was true. By the time dawn bloomed behind her, the human hunters were hot on her trail, and not that far away, either. The best she could figure was that the “whatever-it-was” had alerted its masters, and they, in turn, had alerted the searchers directly in her path.

Dawn saw her doggedly guiding the mare over low mountains (or very tall hills) that were more dangerous than the territory she'd left behind, because the shalelike rock they were made of was brittle and prone to crumbling without warning. She didn't dare stop when she actually saw a search party top a ridge several hills behind her, and caught the flash of scarlet that signaled the presence of the red-robe among them. So there was to be no rest for her today; instead, she set Hellsbane at a grueling pace across some of the grimmest country she'd ever seen. This area was worse than the near-virgin forest, because she kept coming on evidence that people
had
lived here at one time. Secondary growth was always harder to force a path through than an old forest; tangly things seemed to thrive on areas that had been cleared for croplands, or where people had lived. This growth was all second- and third-stage; pine trees and heavy bushes, thorny vines and scrubby grass. All things that seemed to seize Hellsbane's legs and snag in Kero's clothing.

She had left Hellsbane drinking and got up on another ridge to look back about noon, and as she peered around her boulder, she saw the trackers still behind her, spotting them as they rode briefly in the open before taking to cover. This time they weren't several ridges away; they were only one.

She swore pungently, every heartache and regret she'd been nursing since leaving Eldan forgotten. She had something more important to worry about than heart-break. Survival.

Hellfires. They're good. Better than I thought.
And they were gaining on her with every moment she dallied.

She slid down the back of the ridge and slung herself up on the mare's back, sending her out under the cover of more pine trees. And the only thing she could be grateful for was that the day was overcast and Hellsbane was spared the heat of the sun.