Valorian (10 page)

That's odd,
he thought, staring around slowly. His sword and his armband were still in place, his other possessions seemed to be intact, and Hunnul was stil saddled, so it wasn't the work of thieves.

How could he have lost the helmet and cloak while lying on the ground?

The puzzle was too much for him at the moment. His head was stil pounding as if thunder was rumbling through his skull, his right arm was numb, and he suddenly realized he was unbearably thirsty.

Remembering his water bag tied to Hunnul's saddle, he whistled to cal the stal ion. Hunnul perked his ears and moved to obey, but Valorian was horrified to see the big black horse was limping off his right foreleg.

All thoughts of his own pain vanished. The clansman climbed stiffly to his feet and staggered to meet the horse. As soon as he reached Hunnul's side, the cause of the stallion's discomfort was immediately apparent. A long, jagged wound ran down the length of Hunnul's right shoulder.

Valorian exclaimed in amazement while he carefully probed the shoulder. The wound wasn't bleeding; in fact, it looked much like a brand burned into the black hide. Whatever had caused the injury had cauterized the broken blood vessels, sealing the edges of the torn skin. Stitching the wound was impossible; it looked as if Hunnul would be scarred for life. What in the name of Surgart had happened to them? How could Hunnul have been burned like that while his rider had only bumps, bruises, and a headache?

Valorian rubbed the stal ion's neck for a moment before he dug out the pot of healing salve Kierla always packed for him and rubbed some liberal y over Hunnul's burn. Only then did he untie the water skin and drain it to the last drop.

The water helped clear his head enough for some common sense to take over. He saw that the day was quickly waning and knew he and Hunnul needed more water, rest, and shelter for the night. After a last look around for his missing cloak and helmet, Valorian slowly and with great care led his horse off the ridge to find shelter. They made it as far as a small stream rippling down a nearby valley when Valorian's muscles started shaking from the exertion and his headache returned with a vengeance. He had just enough strength left to uncinch the saddle from Hunnul's back and take a long drink of water before he dropped into the grass and bracken and fel sound asleep.

* * * * *

It was early afternoon of the next day when Valorian awoke. He came out of his sleep suddenly and bolted to his feet in alarm, his hand fumbling for his sword. The visions of his dream played in his mind for a moment longer, then dimmed to a half-remembered, faded feeling of danger. He shook his head, as if to shake the visions back into view. For just a moment, everything had seemed so clear. He had been riding Hunnul in a tunnel of darkness guided by a bal of light that he himself had created. To his great frustration, he couldn't remember anything else, only an intense feeling of danger.

Valorian sighed and straightened to his full height. Such an odd, disturbing dream. At least the sleep had done some good. His head pain had dwindled to a dul ache, and his body wasn't as stiff--

despite sleeping on the cold, wet ground without his cloak. In fact, Valorian still felt warm even in the cool breeze blowing off the mountains. He was also still very thirsty.

He walked to the creek, and after a deep, satisfying drink, he sat back on his heels and looked at his reflection ruefully. He looked terrible. A large bruise, probably from his fall off Hunnul, discolored his temple. His dark, curly hair, which he usual y kept tied behind his head, was matted and dirty, and his normally clean--shaven face was hidden under an ugly black stubble.

Valorian was not a fastidious man, but he liked to be reasonably clean, and he hated his beard. It always itched and drew bugs and was too uneven to be worth the trouble of letting it grow. He scratched the stubble absently. It would be so pleasant to have Kierla bring warm water and her knife to shave him.

Kierla!
Valorian rushed to his feet. By the gods, how long had he been gone? He had told her he would only hunt for two or three days, yet he had been out perhaps seven or eight days. And he still had to get back. Kierla would be frantic. He had to go home!

He whistled for Hunnul, hoping the stallion wasn't far away. The black horse came trotting over the hill where he had been grazing and nickered to his master. Valorian was relieved to see that the rest and the salve had helped the stallion. Hunnul was moving easier, with only a slight limp in his right leg.

A short time later, the stallion was saddled and they were heading north back toward the Bloodiron Hills, where the clanspeople made their home.

* * * * *

Although they tried to travel fast, Valorian quickly realized that neither he nor Hunnul had the endurance to stand their usual pace. Both of them were weak from their injuries and the lack of food, and too sore to move any faster than a colt's pace through the high, rough foothil s. They traveled as best they could, stopping often to rest. Valorian walked' much of the time to ease Hunnul's shoulder wound. Fortunately the exercise helped strengthen Valorian's weakened muscles and brought some feeling back to his numb arm. After a while, only the odd warmth within his body and the intense thirst remained.

And the visions. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the tenacious images of his dream.

The vivid memory of those strange visions stuck with him day and night, haunting his sleep with terrors of gorthlings and coloring his days with the light of a goddess's smile. He thought about the dream for hours as he and Hunnul walked home, but the pictures remained mixed up in his consciousness like the pieces of a broken mosaic. He could discern no logic to the patterns or any real truth.

There were all the ingredients of an exciting tale to tell the Clan around the fire at night, Valorian thought with a chuckle. If only he could organize the dream into a coherent tale, everyone would love it.

He shook his head and walked faster. His family had probably given him up for dead by now—

except Kierla. She would never accept his death, and he didn't want to cause her any more anguish.

To his relief, the weather remained dry and warm during the journey home. Valorian and Hunnul had no difficulty finding water and shelter; only food was scarce. They saw a few other people far in the distance, some Chadarian shepherds and a small merchant caravan on the road for Sarcithia. But despite his hunger, Valorian instinctively avoided contact with strangers. Very few would bother to help a clansman, and many more would likely steal his horse.

Shortly after noon on the sixth day after his accident, Valorian saw the reddish bluffs that marked the valley where his family made its winter camp. Relief, pleasure, and anticipation welled up within him, bolstering the last of his strength. He mounted Hunnul and urged the stallion forward in a trot along a hillside toward the bluffs.

They had nearly reached the first bluff when a shout caught Valorian's attention. On a rise to the west, where an ancient trail led out of the foothills to the flatland below, a rider on a bay horse was whooping to draw Valorian's notice. The rider waved frantically and spurred his horse into a gallop down the broad slope.

A grin spread over Valorian's weary face, for the rider was his younger brother Aiden, Adala's twin.

"Valorian!" The shout echoed off the bluffs with all its joy and relief.

The clansman rol ed his eyes skyward as the young rider thoughtlessly jerked his horse's bit to bring the animal to a stop in front of Hunnul. Aiden didn't have rapport with animals, not even horses. His strength, Valorian knew, lay in his enthusiasm, his charm, and his ability to immediately discern people's characters. He was smaller than Valorian, with a thick mane of dark brown hair, gray--blue eyes, and an unquenchable smile.

Valorian dismounted to meet his brother and was nearly knocked off his feet by Aiden's fierce hug.

"By all the gods, Brother!" Aiden cried joyfully. "We thought you were in the realm of the dead!"

A strange spasm passed over Valorian's face and was gone, but not before Aiden's quick eyes noticed it. He held his older brother at arm's length, studying the man's pale skin, the huge bruise, and his filthy, travel-stained clothes.

"You look horrible. What happened to you, Valorian?" Aiden asked, the worry strong in his voice.

"We searched the hills for days. Some of the men are still out looking for you. Where were you?"

Valorian smiled ruefully. He pulled his brother dose again, as if to draw on Aiden's vibrant energy. It felt good to hug another human being at that moment. "I . . . I don't know where I've been." He gripped Aiden's arm to silence the flood of questions. "I'll tel you everything I can when we reach camp so I won't have to repeat myself."

Aiden jerked his head in agreement. "At least you're back." His voice suddenly choked in his throat, and he' turned away to mount his horse.

Together the men rode side by side along the grassy hills toward the wide mouth of the valley.

"Is Kierla all right?" Valorian asked after a moment of silence.

"As well as can be expected. She's hardly eaten or slept for eight days," Aiden replied. "That's some woman you have, Valorian. She wouldn't let any of us give up on you. She sent all of us out in search parties and went out herself for several days. No one could even breathe the possibility of your death in her presence."

Valorian felt his heart begin a slow pound. He could hardly wait to see his wife. He wanted to feel her warmth, to see her eyes sparkling at him, and to rely on her wisdom when he told her of his journey.

Perhaps she could help him understand the accident that had befal en him and the strange dream that had taken root in his memory. He straightened a little more in his saddle, and Hunnul, feeling his master's cue, walked faster.

They rode down to the shal ow stream that flowed out between the bluffs and turned onto a narrow, barely visible path that followed the creek into the valley.

As Aiden rode in front to lead the way, Valorian became aware for the first time that his brother was wearing the split--leg robes, soft leather shoes, and vest of a Chadarian. He also had two baby goats tied in burlap bags behind his saddle, their heads peeking out of the rough fabric.

"Aiden, what have you been doing?" Valorian demanded. "Stealing again?"

Trying to look insulted, Aiden turned in the saddle. "I have not! Not this time. I went as a legitimate trader to sell some of Linna's rugs and hear the latest news."

"In Chadarian clothes?"

Aiden snorted irritably. "You know those Chadarian merchants won't give a clansman a fair deal."

Valorian stifled a grunt of annoyance. It did no good to talk to Aiden about his actions, because he never listened. He was stubborn, willful, and too intelligent for his own good.

One of his greatest pleasures was going to the Chadarian capital, Actigorium, in disguise to gather news and to barter, trade, or steal anything he could get from the Chadarians or the Tarns. It was dangerous work, for if the Tarnish soldiers ever caught him in any suspicious activity, they would whip him to death and hang his body on the main wal of the city.

The problem was that Aiden was very good at his work. He spoke fluent Chadarian, could dissemble with the best, and was skilled at disguises. He was also very successful. He had saved the family several times from surprise visits from Tyrannis's tax collectors and had brought back many items from the city market that the clanspeople couldn't make themselves.

Valorian couldn't understand Aiden's attraction to the city. He himself hated the crowds of people, the narrow streets, and the constant noise, yet he couldn't help but respect his brother's daring. .

"What are the goats for?" Valorian asked, deciding to change the subject.

"Linna wants them. They're supposed to have very soft, long wool when they grow up. She wants to try the wool in her weaving.”

Even through the disgust in his voice at having to haul goats, Valorian could hear the pride in Aiden's voice. Linna, his betrothed, was the finest weaver in the Clan.

Aiden half-turned in his saddle and said, "I also heard that Sergius may pay us a visit in a few days. It seems we're behind on our tribute to General Tyrranis."

Valorian stifled a groan. The last thing he wanted to do now was argue with Sergius Valentius over taxes the family couldn't pay.

They rode on quietly for a while, deeper and deeper into the hills. Gradually the valley narrowed as the surrounding hills rose high above them. Relieved to be almost home, Valorian savored the familiar landscape as never before. Usually" he merely tolerated the rocky confines of the valley. It was cold and damp in the winter, it had too many trees and not enough meadows for the horses, the ground was mostly stone, and the high hil s made him uncomfortable. On the other hand, it afforded an excel ent shelter from the winter winds, and so far it had protected them well from the Tarns.

It wouldn't be long, though, before the family moved on.

After the last of the spring crop of stock animals was born, the family would celebrate the Birthright, the festival of thanksgiving to Amara, then they would pack their tents, gather the herds, and move higher into the mountains to the summer pastures.

Their move could be sooner than he imagined, Valorian surmised, for spring had advanced far into the hills while he was gone. The snow had vanished from the valley during the long days of rain, and the warm sun had brought out a thick carpet of green grasses, herbs, and vines. Wildflowers in delicate colors of white, blue, and pink popped out in every sunny patch of earth.

Not far ahead, Valorian could see where the creek took a sharp turn to the right around a rocky promontory. Behind it, the val ey widened into an oval--shaped meadow that was fairly flat and grassy.

There, Valorian knew, were the tents of the extended family group that cal ed him their nominal leader.

He was so pleased by the prospect of being almost home, he missed Aiden's look of suspicion at the promontory as they passed.