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 Excerpt from Path of Fate
From Chapter 8Saljane clambered to the correct spot in fluttering hops, talons gripping the slick, wet wood with splintering strength. "Gently, gently," Koijots whispered, drumming his fingers on the rail. Reisil was surprised. When first she'd met him, he'd had the self-contained air of a hunting cat, relentlessly patient. Upsakes continued to mutter epithets and Sodur and Juhrnus retained their sharp hold on him. The weirmart wound around to reach her ahalad-kaaslane's face, licking his cheeks with worried absorption. Upsakes shook the little animal off with a bull-like bellow and the weirmart ducked down, clinging with all her might to his surging shoulders. Reisil clutched the rail, unable to do anything more than watch. Suddenly the pikemen at the bow of the boat shouted. Thunder sounded and the boat jerked and leaped like a child's toy on the end of a string. The group at the stern stumbled together and Upsakes tore free to scrabble over the rail. Sodur caught him, Lume's mouth closing around the powerful man's ankle. Upsakes hardly noticed. Juhrnus and Glevs closed to help, and between them they wrestled the angry man to the deck. His weirmart squalled and yowled from beneath the tangle of bodies, but never loosed her companion. The boat dipped. Reisil felt the deck below her shudder as logs hit it one after another. Nine thunderous bangs in all. The squeal of wood scraping along the hull echoed in the air and Reisil felt the deck twist and buck as if a sea serpent roiled beneath. Voli shouted orders and the pikemen shoved on the great, tumbling tree stems. Forgetting her mindlink to Saljane, she screamed warning to the bird. "Saljane! Look out!" The horde of logs crashed into the jam with a deafening sound. Jets of foaming spray exploded upwards, drenching the deck. Like thrown matchsticks they tumbled, end over end, careening wildly. One shot straight up like a giant's arrow, falling in a long, graceful arc to smash down on top of the jam with a crack of thunder, only to tumble free on the other side. Reisil gripped the rail with white fingers. There was no sign of Saljane in the maelstrom. At last there was calm. Not silence. The swollen river continued to rush, the logs thumped and rubbed, waves and foam washing over them. The crew cheered for themselves, that they had kept the boat from capsizing, that the logs had struck glancing blows and not holed the hull. Reisil would have cheered too, but she still didn't see Saljane. Koijots stood shoulder to shoulder with her, searching the wreckage. Reisil searched the sky. ~Ahalad-kaaslane. Tears sprung into Reisil's eyes and she whirled around, eyes raking the air. ~Where are you? ~Here. She heard a whistling and Saljane winged past, the spell still dangling from her beak. Koijots muttered something and turned to Reisil. "It can still be done. I think. There as before, lower now, but quickly, before these new logs set. It'll take more than I've got if that happens." Koijots pointed out the spot he wanted and Reisil communicated it to Saljane. Once again the bird perched on the top of the wood tangle, talons gouging into the slick wood, wings unfurled for balance. With fluttering hops, she journeyed down to the spot Koijots had indicated. The tangled mass creaked and shivered beneath her. The recent additions to the pile groaned and cracked together, rolling and pitching on the river's angry current. Finally Saljane hung the spell on the stump of a branch, as big around as Reisil's wrist, and broken off less than a foot from the trunk. The goshawk launched herself up with heavy flapping of her wings, but did not gain much altitude. A log beneath her canted and rolled, shoving upwards what appeared to be little more than a sapling. Reisil screamed as the wood whipped into Saljane. Feathers exploded like dandelion puff and Saljane screeched. She fell into the water at the edge of the boat, just out of Reisil's reach. The young ahalad-kaaslane didn't think. She vaulted over the rail into the frigid, boiling current. She sank, sodden boots and clothes pulling her down. The current grabbed her, drove her forward toward the battering logs. Reisil kicked furiously upwards and back, against that angry pull. The cold cut through her chest and when she broke the surface, her lips were already blue. She kicked hard against the current, searching for Saljane. There! Too near the tumbling logs. The goshawk's head was above water, her beak open, her eyes impossibly wide. Her wings opened and closed in the water, but the saturated feathers were too heavy to be of any use, even if she could have dragged herself from the water, even if the blow had not broken something. The current whirled Saljane around and batted her toward the churning logs. Reisil kicked hard, flinging herself up and over, letting the driving current help her. Her arms closed around Saljane and she pulled them both under. The bird struggled against her grip. Reisil broke the surface again, kicking backwards, the knobby bark of redwood log not eight inches from her face. Saljane's talons raked her stomach in panicking fury, but Reisil refused to let the bird go. The vicious beak bit deeply into her cheeks and neck as the terrified, painstricken bird fought for freedom. Blood ran down her face in thick ribbons, but Reisil was so cold she hardly felt the injuries. Somewhere in a detached part of her mind, she found humor. ~Oh, ahalad-kaaslane, what we have done to each other in our short bonding. If we survive this, may we both be better friends. The current dragged at her and she found herself between two spinning logs, larger in diameter then she could put her arms around. When they came together, they would crush her. Reisil sucked in a breath and flung herself sideways, under the water, under the log. She pumped her legs, but they hardly seemed to move. Her lungs screamed from the pain and cold. She could see nothing but a glimmer of blurry light above. Where was the boat? Where was safety? She could not stay under any longer, could hardly resist the demands of the current. And Saljane—could she be drowning her ahalad-kaaslane? She thrust herself up toward the light. Her hair clogged her eyes. She could see nothing. Reisil gulped air, her lungs burning. She couldn't feel her fingers, couldn't feel her feet. Logs rumbled together—where? How close? Saljane twitched in her arms but no longer struggled, no longer pecked and scratched. Sudden hands closed around her. "Steady, now," Kebonsat said, his voice strained. "We've got you." Reisil wasn't even capable of relief. She let herself go slack as two sets of hands tied a rope around her waist, beneath her arms where she clutched Saljane to chest. The rope grew taut and she felt herself pulled through the water, then up out of it like a lead weight. She dangled over the steel current, inching upwards in jolting tugs. More hands grappled her and pulled her to the deck where she lay in a frigid puddle. "How is she?" "Blessed Lady! She's blue. Is she breathing?" "Get something for these wounds. At least they're clean. She won't have lost much blood either. Cold as she is, the blood's sluggish." "Gonna scar bad, less you get them treated right. Need to get to Priede to the tark there. Best play that spell if you still can." The voices whirled around Reisil. Kebonsat. Sodur. Glevs. Voli. "So cold," Reisil whispered. "Gotta get her dry. What about the bird?" Gentle hands settled on hers still clutching Saljane. "Let her go, Reisil. You got her out, let us do the rest." The voice was soft and comforting. Sodur. She relaxed her arms. "Good girl. I'll get her warm and dry. Concentrate on yourself now." ~Saljane? ~Saljane? Weak. Safe. Worry. Pain. They were pressing cloth to her face and neck and she felt someone tugging on her boots, then her trousers. They lifted her and carried her to a pallet out of the rising wind. They cut her shredded jerkin from her and all movement stilled about her a moment. Then muttering. Kebonsat? They bound her ribs and stomach and swaddled her in blankets. She shivered, her body shaking like an aspen leaf in a gale. Fiery agony spread questing fingers along her stomach and up her face. Despite the chill, sweat beaded on her forehead and her body twisted, seeking escape from the pain. "Give her some of this." Reisil found a cup on her lips and sipped. Then spat. She struggled, tearing herself from Kebonsat's bracing arm. Sodur brought her up short, pressing her back down. This time his voice was less gentle, more commanding. "You've no choice. Saljane lives in your mind, hears your thoughts, especially now when you're in so much pain. You may not want the laudanum, but she needs you to have it, or I can't help her. You jumped in the river to save her. Would you let her die now for your aversion to the drug? Wouldn't hurt you either. Can't do a lot more for you until we get to Priede. Do you want to suffer the entire way there?" Again Kebonsat held the cup to her lips. She looked at Sodur through her agony, lips compressed. Then with a sigh she drank. It tasted bitter and sweet and foul, despite mixing it with wine. She drained the cup with a grimace and laid back. Sodur patted her shoulder and left. "Upsakes?" Reisil couldn't help but ask. Kebonsat seemed to understand the question. "No harm from him. Sodur gave him a dose of that stuff as well. He ought to sleep until Priede. "Good." Reisil sank back, pain fading already. She still felt cold and grateful to Kebonsat who cuddled her beside him. It wasn't personal, she knew. He was a fighting man and knew that she could yet succumb to hypothermia and shock. A weight settled on her right side. Lume. The yellow-green eyes glowed at her and his heavy head settled on her hip with a rumbling purr. Reisil gave him a dreamy smile, then dropped into darkness without dreams.
From Chapter 9The morning passed uneventfully, if slowly and painfully. The muscles of her legs knotted and twisted. The sores inside her knees broke and bled and dried, then cracked open again. Adding to her misery was Juhrnus, who had unaccountably come to ride beside or behind her as the trail permitted. He aided her dismount at the nooning, bringing her bread and cheese with yellow slices of sweet onion and tender watercress. She leaned against the trunk of a papery-skinned white birch, eyeing him over her lunch, making no effort to disguise her suspicion. He sat stiffly, dropping heavily to a log. His sisalik hissed and gouged his claws into Jurhnus' wrist to steady himself. Reisil smiled as Juhrnus yelped and dropped his food onto the forest mat. But the loving expression on his face as he soothed his ahalad-kaaslane with a low croon astounded Reisil. Reisil polished off her lunch, then fumbled in her pack for a disinfectant salve and cheesecloth. She eyed the ointment and bandages Odiltark had given her. She could wait to change her bandages until the evening, she decided, suppressing the voice in her mind that told her to change them immediately. "Where do you think you're going?" demanded Juhrnus, blocking her passage as she retreated into the privacy of the undergrowth. "Is that your business?" He crossed his arms smugly across his chest. "Upsakes assigned me to you. So you are my business, little sister." "Assigned you to me?" "Since you're so new to being ahalad-kaaslane and all. And him and Sodur have better things to do than shepherd you. So do I. Course if you'd bonded with your goshawk when she first came to you—" His sneer made Reisil want to kick him. "Well then, if you're going to insist on tagging along after me like a little puppy, come on. I have saddle sores and I mean to take care of them. In fact, I can use your help, if you've got the stomach." He frowned and opened his mouth, but Reisil marched off as best she could on her sore, shaking legs. A watchdog. To keep her from making mistakes? Or to keep her from finding Ceriba? She shook her head. Upsakes had made certain this rescue effort was well-outfitted and he'd reasoned the Dure Vadonis' haring off after his daughter. Would a man who wanted to see an end to the treaty argue for the safety of the Dure Vadonis? Reisil sighed. Upsakes was not at all likely to be a traitor. More likely, in fact pretty plainly, he just didn't like her. He knew she'd refused Saljane's first overtures, that she had not wanted to be ahalad-kaaslane. That alone would be enough to make him hate her. And then for her to help Koijots with that spell! No, if Upsakes didn't like her, it wasn't because she upset any plans to kidnap Ceriba and end the treaty between Kodu Riik and Patverseme. She found a fallen tree and sat on it, setting her supplies beside her. Juhrnus halted a few feet away, watching her pull her trousers down. Reisil concentrated on the sores, determined not to let him bother her. She gasped as she bent and the wounds on her ribs pulsed fire. Her trousers stuck to the sores and a whimper escaped her lips as she pulled the material free, her eyes watering. "Those are pretty ugly. Like the ones on your face," Juhrnus commented unhelpfully. "You're going to scar bad, you know. Good thing you're ahalad-kaaslane after all. Now you won't be expected to get a man." Reisil gave him a disbelieving look. What he said was probably true. Brutally true. His lack of tact—or was it malice?—should not have surprised her, not after years of it. But somehow it did. As ahalad-kaaslane, shouldn't he have been nobler? More mannerly? Not for the first time did Reisil wonder about Juhrnus' choosing as ahalad-kaaslane. Then the moment struck her and she began to giggle, and then laugh. Soon tears rolled down her cheeks and she grasped her stomach, the laughter jerking her stitched wounds. The rest of her companions came running and now the situation seemed even more ridiculous. There was Juhrnus, looking dumbstruck, like a smug cow struck by lightning on a clear blue day. And she with her trousers around her ankles, blood seeping down her legs from her saddle sores, laughing hysterically. Sodur rushed forward, alarm in his dark eyes. Upsakes eyed her with cold disapproval, while Kebonsat and Glevs looked askance from her to Juhrnus and then to the blood on her legs. Finally she gained control, taking deep breaths. She felt good. Oh, indeed, sometimes laughter was the best medicine! "My apologies," she said, hiccupping a little. "I have just been informed that my scars now make me so ugly I shall never attract a man again." She looked at Juhrnus who had the grace to blush and stammer something about not really meaning it. "Lucky for me, I am not particularly interested in attracting a man." She thought of Kaval. "In fact I'm completely and heartily not interested, so no need for anyone to feel sorry for me—if indeed you were inclined to do so." The look she cast at Juhrnus was meaningful. "Of course, it calls into question why you might be trailing about after me. Perhaps you like ugly women?" Now she looked at Upsakes. "Or is it something else entirely?" Ho! That made him mad. He hadn't wanted her to know. Now Juhrnus could be in his black books too. She smiled again, a kind of joy running through her. This was almost fun. "We had better dress these," Sodur said, kneeling beside her. "That's what I had in mind. I've got some things here, though I would certainly appreciate help binding them. I seem to have lost my helper." Juhrnus had disappeared and Reisil giggled. "You have a wicked streak, you know that?" Sodur said as he took the cloth and salve from her and dabbed at her sores. Kebonsat joined them, washing the blood from her lower legs with water from his flask. His face was tight with anger. "He is an ass. You are a strong, capable, wise woman. It is those things which give your face beauty and character. Those scars will not mar your kind of beauty," he muttered. Reisil blinked at him. "What a lovely, gallant thing to say. You are a knight indeed." "I wouldn't have thought you would find much humor in Juhrnus' mockery," Sodur said. "I rarely have before. But it seems so petty now. And really, he'd do more to remind me of the hurt I've caused Saljane." Reisil's voice turned serious, her mouth compressing. "I've done little to be proud of there." Sodur finished with the leg he was working with and changed sides with Kebonsat. "You are doing fine. You and Saljane had a rocky beginning, but you're progressing well now. Don't think I haven't seen her affection for you. Animals are not like humans. They have no ability for human intrigue or machinations. What she feels, she feels. And she cares for you. She would not do so if she didn't sense your affection for her. "Now, it would be best if you could rest these wounds until they closed, but I see you will not be left behind, so like any ahalad-kaaslane, you will ride through in pain and suffering. Stubborn and willful—you are indeed one of us." A wide smile broke across Reisil's face and her heart thumped. "Though you will not have to endure the pain of that whelp's company," Kebonsat growled. "You can ride with me." "Good idea, though you may ride that horse of yours off its legs before tomorrow. This journey of ours is proving a lengthier proposition than we hoped. It would be best if you could preserve the energies of your mount," Sodur advised as he helped Reisil to stand. "Otherwise he will fail you when you need him most." She fastened her trousers, waiting for Kebonsat's blistering reply. Instead, his words came almost apologetically. "You are right. I must curb myself." "It is no easy task, but necessary. You will better serve your sister." "I know. But every time I think of her—" "Concentrate on the next footstep, not the length of the road," Sodur said. "And you shall arrive at your destination in time." "You sound so certain." Under the mocking tone, Reisil could hear the terrible need for reassurance, for the certainty that Ceriba would be rescued, alive and well. Sodur heard it too. "If signs have any meaning, then we have the Lady's own blessing in the shape of Saljane and Reisiltark." Reisil started and Sodur opened his hands in a gesture of surrender. "We cannot overlook her gifts. You are a tark, as you are ahalad-kaaslane. And you have set us on the path of truth in the Lady's name. We cannot ask you to be less than you are." Tears pricked Reisil's eyes and she gripped Sodur's hand in wordless gratitude. |
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