DemonWars Saga Volume 1 (62 page)

The monk shrugged. "St.-Mere-Abelle will not give up the search, thus I must keep on the move. I would not bring danger to my friends, now that I know of it."

Elbryan looked hard into Pony's eyes, then the both of them burst into a fit of laughter, as if the whole notion were perfectly ridiculous.

"You stay," Elbryan remarked, demanded. "Pony is home, 'tis true, and her home is Avelyn's, unless I miss my guess."

"Her home is Avelyn's," she said firmly.

A light snow had begun to fall all across the forest, but it seemed to shy from the ranger's camp, from the heat of the ranger's fire, from the warmth of Brother Avelyn's newfound home.

"They think me madder still!" Brother Avelyn roared happily.

"Ho, ho, what!"

Elbryan looked at Bradwarden, and the centaur only shrugged, not about to disagree with the volatile friar's estimation of himself.

"Cavorting with the likes of you, after all," Avelyn went on. "And, oh, would they talk if they knew that I was dining with a centaur!"

"They would talk respectfully if they knew Bradwarden as I know him,"

Elbryan put in, "else, I fear the centaur would trample them."

Bradwarden swallowed a huge chunk of mutton and gave a great belch.

"Ho, ho, what!" Avelyn howled, charmed by it all. The monk was feeling better now, feeling more at home than he had since his earliest days in St.-

Mere-Abelle, since that innocent time before he had learned the truth of the Abellican Order. In Elbryan, Avelyn had found a man he could honestly respect, a stoic individual, wary of the very real dangers of the world, ready to fight against evil and injustice. He had told his tale in full to the ranger, and the ranger had judged him not according to the penned laws but by the true ideal of justice.

Now Avelyn spent his nights in Dundalis or in Weedy Meadow or End-o'-the-World, and his days in the forest with Elbryan and Pony — and sometimes with the ranger's more unusual friends, such as Bradwarden and that magnificent horse Symphony. There was something right about it all to Avelyn, some sense of godliness here that he had not felt in many years. His only lament was that Pony seemed truly shaken by her return to this area. She spent little time with any of them, preferring to walk alone, mostly near Dundalis. She was confronting her past, the monk knew, and he was glad of that, though he wished he could be of more help to the young woman.

Bradwarden took up his pipes then, following the meal with a mournful, soulful tune that conjured in Avelyn images of the rolling hills, the wheatfields, and grapevines of Youmaneff. He thought of his mother and father, hoped that his father was still well. Of course, Jayson Desbris would not know it, but he could rest well when thinking of his youngest son now.

On a hillock not so far away, Pony, too, heard the centaur's haunting music. Her thoughts rolled back to the carefree days of her childhood, of her times with Elbryan — Elbryan! All those terrible images of that fateful day in Dundalis remained with her, but somehow they were easier to deal with. She could look at the tragedy rationally, and now, with Elbryan beside her, she was beginning to come to terms with her fate.

Pony came to know that it was not simple terror and grief that had forced her to bury those awful images, but guilt. She had lived, but everyone else, so she thought, had perished. Why her?

Seeing another from her village, seeing dear Elbryan again, had allowed Pony to remove some of that guilt. She knew the truth now, all of it, and she was strong enough to accept that truth — and on those occasions when she found she was not strong enough, she knew Elbryan would be there for her, as she would be there for him. For the first time in many years, Pony was not alone.

"You are not going into town this night?" Elbryan asked Avelyn, the monk tarrying near to the fire.

"Jill — Pony went into Dundalis," Avelyn clarified, "but I believe I will spend this night in the forest."

"Cold wind and a hard ground," Elbryan warned, and indeed, winter was fast approaching.

"Ho, ho, what!" Avelyn laughed. "You would not guess the hardships I have endured, my friend. This round body does not tell of them."

Elbryan smiled and considered the monk, understanding there was indeed a hardened frame beneath the soft exterior.

"No, I will stay this night," Avelyn went on. "I feel it is time for me to begin repaying you the debt I owe."

"Debt?" Elbryan asked incredulously.

"I owe you my life, as does Pony."

"I followed the only course open to me," Elbryan replied.

"And glad I am that you did!" Avelyn snorted. "Ho, ho, what!"

Elbryan gave a smile and shook his head, entertained, as usual by the complex man. "So you shall repay me with your company," the ranger reasoned.

"Oh, more than that," the monk replied. "And I fear that if I offer too much of my company, then I shall owe you all the more!"

Again came the laughter, but it died away quickly, Avelyn's face growing suddenly serious. "Tell me of your horse," he bade the ranger.

"I have no horse."

"Symphony?"

"Symphony is not mine," Elbryan explained. "Symphony is free and belongs to no man."

"All the better then!" said Avelyn. He fumbled about his robes, then with his pouch.

Elbryan caught a glimpse within that pouch as Avelyn searched for a certain stone, the ranger's jaw dropping low at the myriad sparkles, shimmering brightly, magnificently, even in the light of the low fire. No wonder, then, that the Abellican Church had come after Brother Avelyn!

Finally the monk found the stone he was looking for and held it up before him: a turquoise.

"Is Symphony about?" the monk asked.

Elbryan nodded slowly, cautiously. "What magic do you intend for Symphony?" he wanted to know.

Avelyn snorted. "Nothing the horse will not desire," he assured the ranger.

They went off together into the night, finding Symphony in a moonlit field, grazing calmly. Avelyn bade Elbryan to wait at field's edge, then the monk walked slowly toward the horse, holding forth the stone and chanting quietly.

Elbryan held his breath, not certain what the powerful Symphony might do.

The stallion had accepted the ranger, but Elbryan knew that to be an unusual thing for proud and wild Symphony. If the stallion now bolted forward suddenly, trampling the monk into the earth, Elbryan would not be surprised.

But Symphony did no such thing. The horse nickered quietly as Avelyn came right up to him. The monk continued to chant — it seemed to Elbryan as if he were conversing with the horse — and whatever he was saying, Symphony was listening! After a long while, Avelyn motioned for the ranger to join him.

The monk was still whispering softly when Elbryan moved up beside him.

Symphony had gone perfectly still, his head raised high, his magnificent, muscled chest presented openly to the two men.

Avelyn handed the turquoise to Elbryan. "Finish," he instructed.

Elbryan took the stone, having no idea what he should do with it. Before he could begin to question the monk, he felt an urge, a calling. The ranger looked up into Symphony's dark eyes, understanding suddenly that it was the stallion calling to him! Elbryan blinked in disbelief, then looked back at the turquoise and realized that its glow was not reflected moonlight but its own inner light, a radiating magic; only then did Elbryan realize how warm the stone had grown.