Daughter of Prophecy (36 page)

She nodded. Then her stomach twisted up in a sick knot. Branor grimaced as well. Hands on hips, he scanned the horizon. The sky was empty. No birds flew. It was deathly quiet, punctuated by an occasional snort from a horse and the creak of gear as the men checked their mounts and the straps on the pack mules.

The feeling passed.

Branor sighed, looked back at Lakenna again—and frowned. The tutor was turning in a complete circle, searching the sky. Finally, Branor cleared his throat. “Ah, Teacher?”

Lakenna still studied the sky. “Yes. They are further away somehow. Still, we'd best inform Lord Tellan.”

Rhiannon watched Branor chew his lower lip in indecision. He looked about to speak again when a young warrior led up a shaggy-haired gelding.

He handed the reins to Branor, then picked up the saddle. With practiced ease, he placed it on the horse's back and cinched it tight. He took Branor's mare. “I'll try to give her a quick rubdown before we mount back up.” The young man led the sweating horse to the rear of the column.

Branor rubbed the muzzle of his new mount, then looked toward Lakenna again.

The tutor must have felt his scrutiny. She turned to face him. “Yes?” Her voice was cool. Rhiannon could barely hear it.

Branor stepped toward Lakenna. “Are you . . . in pain?”

At first, Lakenna seemed puzzled. Then the skin around her mouth and eyes whitened. “What do you mean?”

Branor gave a half shrug. “Sometimes I . . . I have been able to—just on occasions, you understand . . . ” He stopped and fumbled for words. “I have read of similar giftings in the time of Destin Faber and the Founders. Recently, I have been able to see things inside people. Twice I have sensed a deep wound in you—”

“I am fine!” Lakenna hissed. Stiff-backed with indignation, she grabbed the edges of her cloak and strode to Munin. Picking up the reins, she whirled back around. “The spiritual gifts operate strongly among Albanes. I do not seek Keeper insights into my fail—. . . into my . . . ” Her face twisted, and for a moment Rhiannon thought the tutor verged on tears.

“No, no,” Branor pleaded. “You misunderstand me. I only wanted to—”

His words died as another cold ripple twisted through Rhiannon. This one was much stronger than the other two. Something vile raised the hackles on the back of her neck. Her stomach flopped one more time. She detected the hint of some foul odor. All her senses screamed that something was here that should not be.

She eyed Branor and Lakenna. They stood still as statues, faces pensive.

Rhiannon's blood chilled when a dark spot high in the sky caught her eye. Though the distance was great, the unfurled wings and long neck were unmistakable.

“Father!”

They galloped down the rocky trail in a jostling bunch. Rhiannon, Lakenna, and Branor rode near the front with Tellan. Llyr had dropped back among the column, and Rhiannon heard his deep voice above the pounding hooves as he ordered the men to spread out.

Three horrors circled above them now, gliding effortlessly above the green foliage and blue granite peaks of the lower Fea Mountains. The beasts stayed well out of bow range but never out of sight.

Tellan searched the sky. “They know where we're going,” he growled. One hand gripped the reins; the other was white-knuckled around his sword hilt. “Unless the herds have been scattered, Serous and Phelan should be over the next series of ridges. If the beasts are going to attack us, it would be better to do so before we join with the herders.” The lines around his mouth deepened. “Unless . . . ”

Rhiannon swallowed.
Unless they are already dead
, she finished. She too gripped her sword hilt with one hand in an effort to keep the scabbard from banging into Nineve's side. Lakenna was not bouncing in the saddle as much. The hard gallop the horses were in, while much faster than a trot, was a smoother gait.

Two warriors rode in front of them and one on either side. All carried bows with nocked arrows. The four were the best archers the Rogoths had.

“How sure are you,” Tellan asked as they galloped, “that these things have not attacked the sheep again?”

Branor shortened his reins to hold back his fresh mount and glanced at Lakenna. “Not sure at all.” When she nodded agreement, he continued. “We were called to intense prayer the day before yesterday and have not been since. We felt their nearness today before they appeared, but that is all.”

“Are you two praying like you did?” Tellan lifted his chin sky-wards. “Will our arrows penetrate these things?”

A guilty look flashed across Lakenna's face. “I pray continually. But the same hindrance I felt before is still there.”

Tellan halted their charge to allow the reserve to catch up.

Lakenna's expression firmed. “I am certain your association with the Broken Stone Land pagans is influencing this somehow and placing Rhiannon in greater risk. Like this Keeper Alock that Branor has told us about, Stanus Albane was adamant that all who enter into spiritual warfare must renounce any taint of the Mighty Ones.”

Tellan scowled. “We are cheated for years by clansmen who only
claim
to follow the Eternal, who themselves trade with pagans, and it is fine. When finally we receive a fair price, it is wrong?”

“I don't understand all the ramifications, m'lord,” Lakenna said, gripping her reins tightly. “The Covenant protects us, but dealing with pagans seems to remove that covering somehow and greatly weakens our ability to fight the evil of the Mighty Ones.”

“If you are correct about Maolmin, then why was he so upset about my dealing with the Broken Stone? His displeasure seemed to go beyond any potential harm with his bargaining with the other clans. If indeed being associated with pagans weakens us and strengthens him, he should have been pleased.”

Branor brought his eyes down from the circling horrors. “At the wool sale, remember how the High Lord mentioned that the Dinari used to serve the Mighty One of the North and that the Broken Stone Land still worships the Lady of the West? We know that in the time before the Covenant the Mighty Ones fought continually among themselves for supremacy. Most likely those rivalries exist today. It makes a certain sense that the siyyim inside Maolmin serves the North.” He regarded Tellan frankly. “The more the Dinari deal with the Broken Stone Land, the more it must strengthen the West.”

“And dealing with Maolmin and the Sabinis strengthens the North? Bah, Keeper! You talk in circles.”

“Like Lakenna, I do not understand it all. This much I do know: the Land resides under the protection of the Covenant, and as long as the Faber dynasty remains intact and the inhabitants overall remain faithful, the Mighty Ones are bound by it.” He lifted his chin to the winged horrors. “But more evil is loose in the Land than we have encountered in generations. At least one High Lord is indwelt by a siyyim, and who knows how far the Mighty Ones' grip extends among the nobility.” Branor gestured to Rhiannon. “Your daughter has been called to protect the Covenant and to lead a rebirth of its fullness. And yet you have become a partner with the very evil she will be fighting.” Branor straightened in the saddle. “I ask you formally to renounce this agreement with Lord Gillaon and his Broken Stone partner.”

Tellan urged his mount into a gallop again and the group followed, armor and tack jingling and clapping. “You pray so we can kill these things,” he said. “I will deal with trade matters.”

“Our prayers are hinder—”

“
Later,
Keeper! Even if I should desire to break those trade agreements, I can hardly do so here and now.”

They pounded around a bend in the trail. Before them rose a high ridge with many half-buried boulders. On the other side of the ridge, Serous, Phelan, and the sheep were supposed to be waiting.

Rhiannon looked up—and startled when she realized the three horrors were lower. More, their wings were tucked.

They were diving straight at them.

Chapter Twenty-six

L
AKENNA

“D
ISMOUNT
!” T
ELLAN ORDERED
as he pulled his stallion into a skidding stop. Munin came to a smooth stop without Lakenna doing anything but what she had been doing since this agonizing day began—holding on with both hands.

She glanced up quickly. The three horrors were dropping toward them at an alarming rate. They were much the way she had pictured them from descriptions and images on tapestries: sleek bodies, pointed wings like a hawk, long serpentine necks, wedge-shaped heads. Sunlight sparkled off their smooth skin. In spite of her thudding heart and the nausea in the pit of her stomach, she found the diving horrors strangely beautiful—

Strong hands lifted her out of the saddle and set her unceremoniously on the ground. “Come, Teacher,” Branor said. “We must pray.”

Warriors scrambled all around them. Every fifth man held his horse and four of his mates' horses. Men jammed arrows in the ground next to their feet for quick access, then stood and faced the oncoming beasts, bows in hand, arrows nocked and ready.

Rhiannon!
Lakenna worried.
Where is she?
Then she saw the girl surrounded by the four who had ridden at the head of the column—the four best Rogoth archers. Rhiannon had drawn her sword. She held it in both hands, point up, her eyes on the horrors that were hurtling closer!

Branor's hand almost crushed hers. “Teacher, I need help!” he gasped. “It is much worse than before.” His brow knitted in concentration.

Chagrined, she joined him in prayer—

And was shocked at the
barrier
she slammed into. All morning as she had prayed, or tried to, she had felt it growing: a hindrance like slogging through dank, foul-smelling water. Now, she could sense that thing she needed to come to grips with—
but she could not get to it!

She felt Branor hammering away desperately even as she redoubled her efforts. They made painfully slow progress, and Lakenna knew they needed more help. She opened her eyes and looked at Rhiannon. The girl had sensed the approach of the beasts. Lakenna opened her mouth to ask Rhiannon to join them when the diving horrors let loose a series of ear-piercing screeches that shattered the morning.

Pandemonium broke loose. Horses reared, eyes wide in terror. Many broke free from their holders and dashed among the warriors. The men who managed to keep a grip on the reins were dragged into the milling mass of bodies and trampling hooves.

Fast-moving shadows obscured the sky. The horrors broke off their dive and spiraled over them, shrieking. The wind of the horrors' wings beat at Lakenna. A bolting horse slammed against her side. She lost her hold on Branor's hand as they both were knocked to the ground. Screams from the circling beasts added to the neighing of terrified horses.

“Loose!” Tellan bellowed as he drew his sword. “On your feet, men. Draw and loose!”

Lakenna came to her hands and knees, gasping for breath, mind spinning. Looking up, she saw the horrors at treetop level, wings beating furiously. A ragged volley of arrows sped up. A chill passed through her when she saw them bounce harmlessly off the light-colored underbellies.

Our prayers aren't working this time! What are we to do?

Two horrors banked lower, no more than the height of two men above the ground. With jaws parted, each spewed forth a long, jagged tongue of flame. Two lines of fire ran across the green grass at amazing speed. Caught by surprise, warriors rolled and cartwheeled out of the way. Two men ran smack into each other. Stunned, they were unable to dodge the line of flame that washed over them. Clothes afire, they ran screaming until tackled by quick-thinking companions and rolled in the dirt to douse the flames.

The third horror swooped down and unfolded its long rear legs to land in the mist of the scrambling mass. Screeching, it darted forward cat-quick and seized a hapless victim between its jaws. The man's scream was abruptly silenced with a sickening crunch of bones. The beast flung the body away, then turned back with wings unfurled for balance and a huge ball bulging behind the head. Lakenna watched numbly as its head lowered and the mouth opened to reveal a double row of bloodstained teeth. Men broke and ran.

“The eyes,” Tellan directed, sprinting up. He grabbed a fleeing bowman and spun him around. “Stand and shoot! Aim for the eyes!”

His presence rallied them. At almost point-blank range, the warriors stood, drew bowstrings back and sent arm-long shafts toward the beast. At least one found its mark. The horror jerked up with a blood-curdling scream, a feathered end of an arrow in one eye.

Men scrambled to avoid being crushed as the beast collapsed. A shaft of fire billowed out its mouth at it hit the ground, blackening the grass. The body seemed to shimmer for a moment, then crumbled inward to become a cloud of dust scattered in the wind of wings as the other two horrors beat upward in the sky and disappeared over the ridge.