Earth Called, page 31
The stallion’s head drooped. He turned to meet her gaze. His intelligent brown eye was awash in tears. He looked broken, utterly defeated.
Ralina didn’t know what else to do. Still on her knees she moved forward through the mud and rain and opened her arms. “Please let me comfort you. Please.”
With a mighty sigh, Bard placed his head in her arms, and as she held him close to her and kissed his forehead she was flooded with emotions: desperate sadness and also need and warmth and love—so, so much love.
I am Bard. Will you be my Rider?
The words in her mind were spoken with such sweetness, such hesitancy, that Ralina’s breath caught in her throat and then released with a shocked sob. “Yes! Yes I will! I will be your Rider!”
Bear instantly stopped howling and rushed to her side. He pressed against Bard, licking tears from the stallion’s face and whining softly as his tail wagged so hard his whole body wriggled.
“Ralina?” Renard approached them.
Ralina looked up at him, smiling through her tears. “He Chose me. Bard is mine and I am his.”
Then Rand and Merlin were there and Bard got unsteadily to his feet, careful to keep physical contact with Ralina and Bear. “It’s true. Bard has Chosen you.” Color rushed back to Rand’s face as he bowed with the traditional Wind Rider greeting to Ralina. “May a mare’s luck be with you and your stallion all the days of your lives.”
* * *
Mari thought the Valley of Vapors was a marvel. The Herd had trudged up into the Quachita Mountains, which were rocky and inhospitable, but in the heart of the rugged mountains was a jewel. Even through her exhaustion Mari felt a thrill as the winter sanctuary for Herd Magenti came into view. The Herd had to enter the valley single file, as the only entrance was a narrow passage through the mountains, which ringed the Valley of Vapors like a crown of spikes. Instead of sitting on the head of a giant, it protected a lush raised plateau. There was a mineral scent that permeated everything, but it wasn’t unpleasant—actually, Mari rather liked it. It reminded her of fertilized earth and green growing things. And all around them were crystals—clumps of them that winked magickally in the sunlight.
“This is incredible.” Sora walked beside Mari, as everyone who had been riding in the horse-drawn carts had to make their way on foot at the end of their journey due to the treacherous pass. “But I think it’s misnamed. This isn’t a valley. It’s more like a verdant mountaintop.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” said Mari as she stared ahead of them. It was late afternoon and the waning fall sunlight caressed the sanctuary so that it blazed with color and crystals.
“River and I have been saying that for years. It really isn’t a valley, but the name has stuck for generations, so the Valley of Vapors it is,” April said from behind them. She walked next to her mare, Deinos. Little Cleo trotted past April to yap at Chloe, whom Sora carried in a sling close to her heart.
Sora laughed, kissed her pup on the top of her little black head, and put her down to play with her sister. “Yes, you may play, but stay close and watch the horses’ hooves. The members of the Herd who are already here and are not accustomed to puppies yet.”
“Rigel, keep an eye on the pups, please. Be sure they don’t get into any mischief you can’t get them out of,” said Mari as she ruffled her big Shepherd’s ears. He barked happily as the two Terrier puppies began chasing him around Deinos. Then Mari turned to April. “No matter what it’s called, this camp really does look like a sanctuary. Is there any other way into it than the narrow pass?”
April smiled and shook her head. “Absolutely not. It’s like the Great Mother Mare scooped out an area here atop the mountains, creating a safe place for Herd Magenti.” April pointed to the sheer walls of rock encircling the valley. “The sharpness of the mountains protects the valley from intruders, as well as from the worst of the winter weather. Hot springs bubble throughout the valley, which doesn’t just keep us warm but also allows us to grow crops, even when everything outside the barrier is frozen. Wait until you see our grow rooms. Your people will love them. The Mother Plants, along with all the crops you brought with you, will thrive here.”
As they continued into the heart of the campsite, Mari gaped at the tall buildings that lined the main road. They were white and glinted in the afternoon sun like milky jewels. “Are those truly buildings of the ancients? And they’re habitable?”
“Absolutely.” April’s voice was filled with pride. “They are maintained year round by Herdmembers who choose not to live a nomadic life. There aren’t enough buildings to house all of Herd Magenti, but the Mare Council inhabits one building. Five others are where the Lead Mare Riders of the branches of Herd Magenti and their families winter.” April’s grin widened. “As Lead Mare Rider of the main Magenti Herd, it is River’s right to claim the largest, most spectacular of the buildings. You’ll see. And there’s plenty of room. You and Nik and Sora—well, and also Davis, Claudia, and their family of puppies—should join us.” Then her smile faded. “It is usually so joyful to retreat here for the winter. We feast and rest and soak in the mineral springs. It’s something we look forward to all year. I wish you could be experiencing that for your first time in the valley, and not preparing for a siege and war.”
After they poured through the pass, the road opened wide—so wide that half a dozen horses could easily walk side by side along it—and it was incredible. Made of flat stone, it stretched through the center of the valley with glistening buildings and colorful purple tents framing it. More of Mari’s Pack hurried into the valley to join her. Nik rushed up with Laru and took her hand.
“This place is amazing. And River said those buildings are actually inhabited,” Nik gushed. “I wonder if it’ll be like living in a burrow.”
Before Mari could answer, River trotted up to them on Anjo, with Dove and Tulpar following closely. River dismounted and turned to the Moon Women. “Mari, Sora, I’d like you to join Dove and me to meet the Lead Mare Riders of the other branches of Herd Magenti. We are the last to arrive as we were unusually far away because of the Stallion Run, and we have much to discuss as we get ready for Death’s army.”
“I would be happy to,” said Mari.
“As would I,” echoed Sora.
River nodded her appreciation. Then they all turned their attention to the four magnificent mares and their Riders who trotted together down the wide, well-maintained road toward their newly arrived group. Each woman’s hair was dressed with striking purple ribbons and crystals. As with River’s Herd, they looked healthy and strong—and were smiling in welcome.
“So, our Herd is called Magenti Central, correct?” Nik asked.
“Yes,” River explained. “The other Herds are named for directions—Magenti North, South, East, and West.”
“But Magenti Central is the largest of the five Magenti Herds,” added April. “And Magenti is the only one of the Great Herds with multiple branches. We are quite powerful and—”
April’s words broke off like someone had clamped a hand over her mouth. Mari had turned to see what was wrong when every horse and Rider in the valley gasped. Some cried out as if they were in pain. At the same moment each horse raised his or her muzzle to the sky and began keening the most horrible, heart-wrenching sound that Mari had ever heard. Beside them River and April staggered to their mares, stroking their necks and making inarticulate sounds of distress.
“By the smooth thighs of the Goddess! What is happening?” Sora shouted as she and Mari and Nik stared around them helplessly as their friends and Herdmembers sobbed while they attempted to comfort their horses.
“Oh, Goddess. It is finished.” Dove spoke from Tulpar’s back. The big golden stallion bowed his head as tears dripped down his face. “They have been successful.”
“Dove,” Mari said. “What is it?”
Dove slipped from Tulpar’s back and wrapped her arms around her stallion as he keened with the rest of Magenti. Her words were heavy with sadness. “They mourn the death of Herd Ebony. The horses felt it—felt them die. It is quite horrible.”
* * *
Ralina could hardly believe what had just happened, but it was true—so very true. Bard, her stallion, was exhausted, but after they took a short break he told her—he told her—that he was willing to continue until darkness stopped them.
Ralina encouraged Bard, stroking his neck and murmuring her love and support as they began again, heading eastward across the blessedly flat land through rain that had decreased from a steady downpour to a drizzle. Though Bard and Merlin were still moving, their pace was slower. The light was waning and, as Bard explained to Ralina, they must take their time when it was difficult to see so that they did not step into a gopher hole.
“Renard, Bard just told me that if a horse breaks a leg it is pretty much a death sentence. Is that true?” Ralina had been firing questions at the experienced Stallion Rider since Bard Chose her.
Rand nodded. “It is true. You will learn to help protect your stallion’s legs against injury—that and hoof care are very important, but do not be overwhelmed. Herd Magenti will help you, and Bard will also guide you.” His gaze went to the big black stallion. “It is a marvel that he Chose you.”
Ralina reached down to stroke Bard’s warm, wet neck again. “I think so, too…” Then she paused and added, “Does it not happen often that a horse Chooses more than one Rider in his lifetime?”
“No, almost never.” Rand spoke quietly, his voice filled with great sadness. “Most horses suicide when their Riders die, and most Riders choose not to outlive their Companions.”
“How long do horses usually live?” asked Renard from his seat behind Rand.
“Their life span is as long as their Riders’,” said Rand. “Legend says in ancient times horses only lived about thirty years. Thank the Great Mother Mare that changed when horses and humans became Chosen Companions. When you meet Morgana, the Leader of the Mare Council and Rider of the mare Ramoth, you will meet the oldest living horse and Rider team. No one knows for sure exactly how old they are, but I’ve heard rumors that they have been bonded for eight decades.”
“That’s incredible,” said Ralina.
“It is very similar with our canines,” said Renard. “Though their life spans aren’t as long as your horses’, they do often live thirty, forty, and even fifty years. They rarely outlive their Companions, but if they do our canines almost always choose to follow them into death. It is not often that a human is Chosen by another canine during his or her lifetime.” Renard’s gaze went to Kong, who padded through the muddy grass beside Merlin. “They are our biggest joy and thus our most desperate sadness when we lose them.”
They rode on in silence for a while, and then—very softly—Ralina said, “I do not understand why Death killed them. Why did He not mutate them? That was His plan. He told me over and over what He intended. Why would He change His mind?”
Into her mind, Bard’s sweet voice said, My Clayton and Herd Ebony were not killed. They chose to die.
“Oh, Bard, my precious boy. That is so horrible.” She stroked his neck. Beneath her touch she felt his body trembling again.
“What is it?” Renard asked.
“Bard just told me that Death did not kill Herd Ebony, but that they chose to die.”
Rand’s shoulders slumped. “Will Bard tell you anything else about what happened?”
Bard, precious one, will you tell me what happened to your Clayton and Herd Ebony?
Bard shivered violently and his neck turned so that she could look into his expressive brown eye. Tears still leaked down his face. I cannot. I must bear that alone.
“You’re such a brave, wonderful boy. Know that I am here for you—always—and that when you are ready you can tell me anything.” Beside them Bear barked to punctuate her words. She glanced at Rand. “He knows what happened, but he won’t talk about it.”
Rand nodded sadly. “He won’t show Merlin what happened, either. Perhaps someday he will.”
They traveled on past sunset, until the sky went from ash to the black of a starless, cloud-covered night.
My Ralina, we cannot go farther safely.
Ralina wondered if she would ever get used to the miracle of Bard’s sweet, soft voice in her mind. He was articulate and compassionate and amazingly gentle. She was already so connected to him that she could feel the terrible grief that he carried, as well as his guilt at surviving and Choosing another Rider.
“We must stop and make camp.” Rand’s voice came out of the darkness in front of them.
“That’s what Bard just told me,” said Ralina.
“Merlin says there is a grove of apple trees just ahead,” said Rand. “We can pitch our tarps there and make a fire. It will be good for all of us to get dry and warm and eat something.”
As the stallion’s keen senses had noticed, just ahead of them was a grove of gnarled old apple trees. As they hung tarps, they discovered that the boughs still held plenty of ripe apples. The horses munched eagerly on them while their Companions built a blazing campfire over which they boiled water for sweet mash. In Clayton’s packs Ralina discovered two pheasants, plucked, quartered, and wrapped tightly in a skin—ready to roast. Renard spitted them while she buried apples in the coals to cook.
Bard and Merlin ate and then stood resting by the fire. Merlin remained close to Bard, as did Bear, and Bard was always within touching distance of Ralina. She often stroked his smooth coat and sent him waves of love. She spoke regularly to him. Sometimes just calling him her precious boy. Sometimes she reminded him she was there, beside him, and told him over and over that she would never leave him. Bard returned her affection, but she could feel the weight of grief he carried and she desperately wished she could do something—anything—to lessen that burden for him.
As they were unrolling their sleeping gear, first Merlin’s and then Bard’s head went up, immediately followed by Bear and Kong, who had been dozing by the fire, coming wide awake. The Shepherds stood and growled and stared into the night.
Rand rushed to ready his bow. Bear and Kong went to their Companions’ sides. The fur down their backs lifted as they continued to growl and peer into the night.
And then Merlin neighed a joyous greeting, and Bard echoed him, though with less enthusiasm as the sounds of large creatures moving through the grasses surrounding the apple grove came to them over the rain.
“Who is it?” Ralina’s heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. It can’t be Death! He must be a day behind us!
Bard’s voice, thick with relief, sounded in her mind. Wind Riders. Not enemies.
Into the dancing firelight came several horse and Rider teams, as well as a horse pulling a small, light cart.
“Dawn! Echo!” Rand dropped his bow and hurried to the Riders. “Thank the Mother Mare.”
A beautiful woman with skin the color of fertile earth slid from the back of a horse so white she seemed silver. Rand halted before her and bowed low, crossing his wrists over his heart. “Greetings, Dawn, Mare Rider of Echo.”
“Rand, you live!” Dawn embraced him. “We felt the death of Herd Ebony and were just turning to head back to the Valley of Vapors when a white doe appeared to us. She behaved so oddly that it was clear she wanted us to follow her, which we did until we saw your fire. The doe disappeared and we understood she’d been leading us here.” The woman’s gaze went from Rand to find Ralina and Renard—and their Companions. “Bard? He lives, too? Where is Clayton?”
Rand opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted when a man leaped from the light cart to rush past them.
“Ralina! Renard! Is it really you?”
Ralina felt a jolt of shock. “O’Bryan?”
And then her friend and Tribesman pulled her into an embrace, which Renard joined. O’Bryan thumped their backs before he let them loose to greet their Shepherds. “Bear, Kong! Come here, boys.” The Shepherds eagerly went to O’Bryan as he dropped to his knees to hug and pet them while they covered his face with wet kisses. His smile beamed at the Wind Riders accompanying him as he announced, “This is Ralina, Storyteller to the Tribe of the Trees. It is she who Dax spoke of—she helped him escape Death so that he could warn the rest of us.” He turned back to Ralina. “I can’t believe you’re here. How did it happen and where did this stallion come from?” O’Bryan gestured at Bard, who stood so close behind Ralina that his muzzle rested on her shoulder.
“They are a bonded pair,” said the woman Rand called Dawn. She met Ralina’s gaze. “Which means Clayton is no more.”
CHAPTER 27
Around the campfire Ralina told her story to the Lead Mare Rider, O’Bryan, and the three Wind Riders in their group. She did not rush. Ralina spoke slowly, carefully, and with accuracy. She told of the death of their beloved Tribe of the Trees as O’Bryan wept openly and the Shepherds comforted him. She recounted to the small group the atrocities Death had committed, wiping out the Saleesh people and reanimating their dead with spirits of the ancients. She explained Death’s goal—subjugating the Wind Riders and awakening the Goddess of Life to rule over their plains. Finally, she replayed for them the events of the day—how they’d found Death’s army and how Clayton and his Herd had been captured—and all had died except for Rand and Merlin, who had remained with them, and Bard, whom Clayton had somehow sent to them and who had Chosen Ralina as his Rider after Clayton’s death. As she finished, Dawn came to her and touched her cheek gently.
“You have been given a great gift,” said the Lead Mare Rider. “Bard’s choice to live and to accept you as his Rider is extremely rare and speaks to the integrity and compassion in your heart. Welcome, Stallion Rider, to Herd Magenti.”
Then Dawn went to Bard, who stood beside his Rider, always within touching distance. The other horses had gravitated to Bard as soon as they had been cooled down and fed. They surrounded the stallion, remaining close, as if to lend him strength.
