The Complete Horse Mistress Collection, page 24
Andoc and I moved to bracket him on the low bench seat. I half-expected him to break down, but he only stared across the room, his empty gaze leagues away.
“I can’t feel anything,” he said, in the tone one might use when discussing the weather.
“Amadi…” Andoc began, only to trail off.
Suddenly, I knew what to do—what needed to happen now. I stood up and faced the other two. “Can the village spare both of you until morning?”
“There is nothing more to be done this night,” Senovo said, still distant.
“Yes, it can. Why?” Andoc asked.
“Come with me, both of you,” I said in lieu of answering. Taking Senovo by the arm, I urged him up. He followed meekly enough, though he seemed slightly unsteady on his feet.
I led them out of the suffocating atmosphere of the temple, still thick with the smell of death and pungent herbs. Outside, the night was cool and misty. I skirted around the village green with its sad, sheet-wrapped bundle, heading south. The waning moon was up now, visible through shreds of drifting clouds as we reached the edge of the village. Unlike the rolling pastures to the north and the craggy plateaus to the east, the land south of Draebard was thick forest. It was here that we harvested firewood and timber for building, using teams of horses to drag felled logs down the series of rough tracks that wended through the woods.
It was along one of those tracks that I now led Senovo and Andoc, away from the buildings and sleeping townsfolk. Senovo moved like a man in a dream, allowing me to guide his footsteps along the packed dirt of the logging road without protest. Andoc’s silence as he moved to flank Senovo on the other side made me think he had divined my purpose. And, indeed, after a few more minutes of walking, he indicated a clearing off to the side, soft spring grass illuminated by the moonlight.
“What about here?” he asked.
“Perfect,” I said, and between us we led Senovo into the center of the secluded forest glade.
When we stopped, he seemed to jolt into sudden awareness. “Where are we?” he asked. “I don’t—“
I faced him and grasped his shoulders. “We’re in the middle of nowhere in the woods. Away from people. It’s just us. You can let go now.”
Senovo shuddered under my hands. “Andoc…?” he asked in a small voice, his eyes seeking the other man’s.
Andoc placed a strong hand on the nape of Senovo’s neck, grounding him. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m here. We both are. We won’t let anything happen.”
Senovo’s breath hitched. He lowered his chin to his chest for a long moment. Then, without looking up, he raised his hands to unfasten the ties on his robes and let the heavy material slide off his shoulders to land on the ground. I stepped back, giving him space. He removed his sandals, naked now in the weak silver light of the crescent moon.
Turning away from us as if ashamed, he dropped to his hands and knees with a sharp cry. A moment later, the wolf bounded a few steps away and turned, a whine rising from his throat. Andoc put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to his side as we watched. I went willingly.
The whining continued, heart-wrenching in its bereft sadness. After a few moments, the wolf raised his voice in a full-throated howl that resonated in my own chest and prickled the hair at the back of my neck. Throwing back his head and pointing his muzzle toward the moon, the animal bayed out its loss to the night sky. The chilling noise rose and fell, echoing off of the trees and ridges surrounding us until it seemed all-pervasive.
Chapter 7: The Pack
ANDOC SUCKED IN A BREATH next to me. It took me a few moments to realize that other voices had joined Senovo’s, the howls of wild wolves intertwining with his own in an unearthly chorus of grief. They were close, too. I shivered, overcome by a sense of the surreal. The feeling of wonder grew as the howls trailed off, replaced by the sound of panting and rustling in the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing. Gray shapes began to appear from out of the trees. First, a single scar-faced old veteran, then other wolves in twos and threes, until there were almost a dozen.
I should have been scared. I know I should have. I felt Andoc tense beside me, but a moment later he relaxed with an audible breath and shook his head. I looked up at him with a question in my expression, and he shrugged.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, as if I’d spoken aloud. “It’s crazy, but what the hell. If they decide to turn on us, at least it’ll have been an interesting way to go.”
The wolves were ignoring us for the most part, milling around Senovo instead. I felt a brief pang of worry, but the sleek, silver-gray animals showed no aggression toward him. Quite the opposite, in fact—the strange wolves crowded close, jostling for position to rub their bodies along his and nuzzle at his jaw as if offering comfort.
“By all the gods…” Andoc breathed in awe.
Within the ever-moving swarm of furry bodies, it would have been easy to lose track of Senovo, were he not at the center of the mob—the fixed point around which the rest rotated. As Andoc and I continued to watch, I began to get more of a sense of the dynamics… at first, the pack leaders kept the others at bay so they could pay their respects. The senior wolves were followed by those lower in the pecking order, ducking in to lick at Senovo’s throat and rub up against his shoulders. Finally, the young wolves—gangly adolescents—slunk in, many rolling onto their backs, offering their vulnerable necks and bellies, paws waving in the air and tails wagging when he deigned to drape a paw over them and greet them with a sniff and a lick.
With the single exception of Senovo’s own transformation, it was the most extraordinary thing I’d ever seen in my twenty-three years of life.
Eventually, the frenzy of lupine affection and comfort subsided, the strange wolves settling down near Senovo in pairs and trios, watching him with lolling tongues. Senovo whined again, his attention turning back to the two of us. Andoc released his grip on my shoulder and went down on one knee, showing no surprise when the wolf sidled forward to lap at his throat and jaw in much the same way the other wolves had greeted Senovo earlier.
I fell to my knees next to them, receiving the same treatment, even as the other wolves looked on curiously. The large animal shoved at us until we both toppled into an inelegant sprawl, his whines subsiding into plaintive whimpers. Eventually, we ended up tangled together, the wolf half in our laps with his head burrowing into the space under Andoc’s left arm. I dragged my fingers rhythmically through the thick undercoat along the wolf’s flank, curling my upper body along the length of his back to rest my head and shoulder against Andoc’s side.
The animal continued to whimper out his distress, hitching himself even closer against our bodies. My own eyes burned and my nose started to run at the display of primal grief, so raw and immediate. The wolf hurt; it sought comfort and received it. If only human interactions could all be so straightforward.
The three of us huddled in the middle of the clearing, wrapped around each other, surrounded by a pack of wild wolves watching us with interest as the night wore on. Eventually, the darkness began to give way to predawn, and finally true dawn as the sun peeked over the barren ridge running above the tree line in the east. The wolf moaned low in its throat, writhing against us. Suddenly, we were holding Senovo’s naked body, his chest hitching as he pressed his face into the juncture of Andoc’s neck and shoulder.
I scooted around until I could embrace him fully from behind, wrapping him up between us. A few moments later, I heard a snuffling noise next to me, and something wet and cold fluttered against my arm where it lay half-entwined with one of Senovo’s. I opened my eyes, finding myself face-to-face with the scarred pack leader, its gray fur backlit by the golden light of the rising sun. We regarded each other steadily for the space of several heartbeats before the yellow eyes blinked, and the animal turned to leave.
Around us, the wolves melted away, returning to the depths of the forest as if they had never been there at all. Distant movement caught my eye and I looked up to the ridge top above us. Three riders on horseback stood silhouetted by the morning light, looking down at us. One of them extended an arm, as if pointing. I straightened away from Senovo, blinking, and ran a hand over my face to clear the cobwebs left by a largely sleepless night.
“Carivel?” Andoc asked, drawing my attention. When I looked back at the ridge, the riders had gone.
“Nothing,” I said after a moment, and ran a quick gaze around the clearing. “Looks like our furry friends have all left.”
Andoc craned around to confirm it as best he could without dislodging Senovo. “Huh. Looks like it,” was all he said.
In his arms, Senovo’s breathing had finally quieted. The eunuch twisted until he could see a little bit of their surroundings.
“What… just… happened, exactly?” he asked after a short stretch of silence.
I opened my mouth to explain, only to close it again when I couldn’t think of any words.
Andoc cleared his throat and stepped in. “You turned into a wolf and somehow called a pack of wild wolves to us. They stayed with us until the sun came up and you changed back, at which point they all wandered back into the woods.”
Senovo blinked. “… oh,” he said eventually, still not moving from Andoc’s embrace.
I rose on uncertain legs, the tingle of returning blood flow making my flesh prickle. Senovo’s discarded robes and sandals were a few steps away; I picked them up and brought them back to him.
“We have to get back, don’t we,” I said, knowing it was true. By rights, I should have been at the horse pens by first light, but I was confident that Dalon would have things well in hand. No doubt Senovo and Andoc both had things to do in preparation for the arrival of the Mereni delegation later. Not to mention for the funeral tonight.
“Yes, we do,” Senovo agreed, although he stayed where he was for a moment longer before reluctantly pushing away from Andoc and dressing himself.
The three of us were quiet and thoughtful on the walk back. The other two, I suspected, were still too raw from High Priest Rhystel’s passing to give much thought to the implications of what we’d just experienced. I, however, found it fascinating. Why would strange wolves comfort an unfamiliar lone wolf? And, perhaps even odder, why would grizzled pack leaders defer to a strange, castrated male who displayed no dominant characteristics? There had been no snarling or snapping or wrestling for position—the other wolves had simply accepted Senovo among them without fuss.
I had no idea what that could mean, but it seemed, well, important somehow.
Before I was really ready, we reached the edge of the settlement. The smell of delicious food wafted to us from the direction of the cookhouse, and my stomach rumbled. I suddenly realized that I hadn’t eaten a thing since midday yesterday, which meant that Senovo probably hadn’t either. I snuck a glance at Andoc, who was, as expected, regarding me with a raised eyebrow.
“Let me guess,” he said. “In the absence of my constant reminders, you both have skipped one or more meals and only just noticed the fact.”
“I’ll get food and bring it to the temple,” I said meekly.
It was more than a bit embarrassing, to be honest. I was an adult, and had successfully been taking care of myself even when I was still a child. Admittedly, the amount of stress I’d been under lately was considerable, but there was some secret part of me that simply loved the idea of someone caring enough to look after me. To provide for my needs. I flushed, and ducked away toward the cookhouse.
Unfortunately, the big round hut in the center of the village was an unavoidable reminder of Gretya, its long-time proprietress, who was killed during the attack. Gretya, in turn, was an unavoidable reminder of Jorun, my mentor. I wondered how he would have reacted upon discovering my birth sex. Perhaps it was better this way—I could never know the truth of it now, so it was easy to pretend he would have judged me on my merits over the years he’d known me, and welcomed me back to Draebard with open arms.
Thinking about it so soon after seeing Senovo lose Rhystel was making me teary-eyed again. I blinked rapidly, forcing the feelings down into the cavity of my chest.
Gretya’s three daughters had immediately taken over running the cookhouse after her tragic death. The youngest daughter, Limdya, was behind the counter this morning when I entered, and I winced a bit. Limdya had demonstrated a stubbornly single-minded crush on me, when everyone still thought me a man. I had tried to put her off as gently as I could, but—
“Carivel.” Limdya’s voice was flat and angry. She stared at me with the same searching look that most people seemed to have since I returned—looking for evidence, looking for something that gave me away as female.
I was growing to hate that stare.
“Limdya,” I said.
Limdya slapped her hands down on the counter top. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here. I should throw you out on your ear.”
I bristled. “I came to buy food. The High Priest passed away early this morning. Senovo and Andoc were up all night with him, and none of us have eaten.”
“If you think I’m cooking for you, Carivel, you’re a fool as well as a liar,” Limdya snapped.
“Oh?” I said, my own temper barely reined in after a night of grief and little sleep. “Has my being born female harmed you in some way, Limdya? Because I can’t really see that it has.”
When I’d walked in, I’d been one of the first customers of the morning, but as others drifted in, we were quickly drawing an audience. Somehow, it wasn’t enough to stop me.
“You know, I never encouraged your advances,” I continued, anger at the unfairness of it all driving me on. “I tried to be gentle about it, but I never said or did one single thing to lead you on!”
“You… conceited bitch!” Limdya gasped. “That has nothing to do with it! ‘Oh, Limdya, women aren’t allowed to work with the horses!’ ‘Oh, Limdya, I’m sorry you can’t come with me to see the foal being born, but if a woman was nearby it might cause the foal to be stillborn!’ You’re a filthy hypocrite!”
I felt increasingly sick as she parroted my own words back to me in a singsong voice. Some of my anger drained away as the reality of my behavior hit me.
“I worked hard to get where I am,” I said, my voice growing quiet. A defensive note crept in that I couldn’t seem to help. “I risked everything to become Jorun’s apprentice.”
“How nice for you,” Limdya spat. “Too bad you didn’t stop to think about the rest of us.”
Gods. It was far too true for comfort. I’d been focused on living my life. Keeping my secret. I’d known for a long time that Limdya was also fascinated by the horses. Aside from feeling vaguely bad about it, though, I hadn’t hesitated to use the old line about only men caring for the animals whenever she seemed in danger of getting too close to me.
And yet, why was it my job to change things? If Limdya was serious enough about it, she could bloody well have done the same thing I did.
Maybe she didn’t want to run away to a new village and live as a boy, said a voice in the back of my head. Maybe she wanted to work with animals and still live with her family. Still be a woman.
“Fine,” I told her, just wanting the conversation to be over. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. I’m a weak and terrible person. I won’t darken your doorway again, and I won’t ask for food for myself. That said, Draebard’s First Warrior and the new High Priest are still hungry. Don’t take your anger at me out on them.”
Limdya glared daggers at me and slapped two portions down on the counter. She swept the coins I laid down into the wooden till box without even looking at them. I gathered up the food and headed to the door, only to stop a few steps away.
“The Mereni think very differently about men and women,” I said without turning around. “Things are going to change, from here on out.”
“And to think,” came Limdya’s bitter voice in reply, “it only took the death of dozens of people, including my mother.”
I cringed, and walked out without saying another word. Outside, the town was waking up as the sun crept higher in the sky. Perhaps it was just as well Limdya had refused to serve me; I was so nauseated by what had just transpired that even the smell of the food I was carrying made my stomach churn.
My dark thoughts at least kept me from paying too much attention to any gawkers who might be pointing and whispering as I hurried back to the temple. The long, low building was still eerily quiet. I bowed perfunctorily to the gods and let myself in, relieved that the smell of illness and putrefaction was starting to dissipate somewhat. Someone—probably Senovo—had also lit some incense in an attempt to cover the stench. Even so, the lingering smell of death made my already sour stomach worse.
I wasn’t quite sure where the other two were likely to be… probably not Rhystel’s sick room, but other than that, they could be anywhere. It seemed odd that I knew how Senovo liked best to be kissed, and could picture exactly what he looked like when he closed his eyes in ecstasy, but had no idea where his sleeping room was located. I tried the refectory first, to no avail. Not sure what else to do, I entered the long hallway filled with sleeping cells and called, “Hello?” in a voice that was hopefully loud enough to be heard by anyone still awake, but not so loud as to wake the acolytes from their peaceful, drugged slumber.
A moment later, Andoc poked his head out of an open door about a third of the way down the hall, and beckoned me in. Relieved, I entered the tiny room to find Senovo seated in the narrow bed, his back braced against the wall and legs curled beneath him. He looked up listlessly at my entrance, only to do a double take at whatever he saw in my expression.
“Has something happened?” he asked. “Something else, I mean.”
I shook my head and handed out the food. “It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Andoc said, accepting his portion. “And where’s your breakfast, by the way?”
