The Key of the Keplian

14

Eleeri stood back to watch. The Keplians had understood the sound, she smiled to see their surprised pleasure. Then she drew Mayrin aside.

“You have a small amount of the gift. Is it enough for you to probe into the deeps of a mind?”

Her friend shook her head. “No, not with any but kin.” She laughed then. “Although Jerrany and I do share thoughts sometimes usually at just the moment we shouldn’t.”

“Oh?”

Mayrin giggled. “It was at a dinner for the Lord Terne of the Valley of the Green Silences. He’s a nice old man but very stuffy and pompous. It was kind of him to ride all the way out here and he only came to go over our fortifications for us. But he would keep on about the importance of having escape passages. We should have at least two, one known only to us. We were both sitting there trying to look interested and he just kept on and on. The next thing, I had this picture—” She broke off to snicker again while Eleeri waited patiently. “It came from Jerrany. It was of Lord Terne as a burrower, digging tunnels madly all underneath the keep until the whole thing fell in on him. Then this burrower with his face sat up in all the dust looking so surprised. I couldn’t help it.” She was laughing again, and visualizing it all. So was Eleeri.

“What did you do?”

“Muttered something about being needed urgently and ran. I got outside in the passage and just collapsed. Nurse came by and stood staring. That set me off all over again. It must have been almost half an hour before I could go back. Nurse said she hoped she was raising the children better. But when I told her, she was laughing, too.”

By now so was Eleeri. She’d seen burrowers. Small stout animals who did indeed have an air of surprised pompousness about them. She giggled along with Mayrin until Jerrany turned to look.

“What are you two hatching?”

His wife grinned. “Nothing—yet. I was merely telling Eleeri about Lord Terne.”

Jerrany grinned. “I remember that. I thought you were going to burst before you got out of the hall.” Then he sobered. “Since these ones say they are our allies, let us make plans with them. The evil spreads and grows as it drains power where it finds it. If we are to act in time, it must be soon.” He spoke not of Romar, but all knew what he meant. His heart ached for his friend Romar, who had always brought laughter and Light. Romar, who could not bear to be caged, and was now caged beyond his nightmares. Jerrany shivered.

“Let us make our plans quickly.”

His wife nodded. Eleeri moved forward. “The plans have already been made. These Keplians are the friends I spoke of last night. They it is who will attack to draw off the attention of the enemy. No normal mount would approach the tower, therefore my kin-friends have consented to bear the three of us thither. But us alone. Let your men, those you can spare, ride on ordinary horses to fight beside the Keplians who distract the enemy.”

“A reasonable plan, but will these two bear us willingly? I would hear it from them.”

The scarred mare moved up to reach out with her nose, touching his hand. *I will carry you to fight evil. To strike the Dark I will bear you willingly.*

Shenn nuzzled at Mayrin’s hair. *I, too. I will carry you.* He moved back in a half rear. *But we bear no human gear. You must ride us as we stand.*

“That seems fair.” Eleeri said nothing of her thoughts: that he was yet too young to carry the weight of saddle and gear as well as that of even a light rider.

Eleeri faced her friends. “One thing I would say. Beware of seeking to force your minds into full rapport with these. Their minds are not as ours. I think it is that difference that has moved gifted humans to slay them before now.” She gestured for silence when Jerrany would have spoken. “Yes, I share hearts with my friends. But from the beginning I never saw them as evil. The first time our minds touched, I was stunned, shocked, but then I opened my eyes and saw only those I loved before me. I no longer fear deep mind-touch. But your people have responded to it with such hatred that to my belief it is better you do not attempt it. Do you agree?”

“If you are certain of this,” Jerrany said slowly, “then you are right and it is safer we do not try. But we can speak ordinarily?”

“Yes. Speak aloud, and Theela and Shenn will answer by mind as they have already done with you both.”

He nodded. “Then let us check preparations.” He called and one of the men-at-arms came running. There was a swift consultation before Jerrany turned back to the waiting women. Most of the orders had been completed. If they busied themselves before nightfall, they might be ready to ride by dawn. Eleeri grinned cheerfully. Not too fast. She would have to return to inform those of her canyon that the humans agreed to company them. Then she could ride with Tharna and Hylan to meet her friends at the stream ford.

For the next few hours the Keplians stood studying the bustling humans with deep interest. They had moved carefully to the side of the courtyard, half hidden in the shadows as the light began to fail. From a half door a girl emerged then, a child of perhaps seven or eight. Behind her came a boy bearing a sheaf of hay. A water bucket swung heavily from the girl’s small hands. She bowed politely.

“Food and drink to the travelers, in the name of the Light.”

Tharna stepped up, and drank gratefully. *Thank you.*

Shenn had reached for the hay and was happily chewing his mouthful. The small boy giggled and stroked the soft nose within reach.

“He’s beautiful. Ask them what his name is.”

*I am Shenn, human.*

“I am Kiren and she’s Shevaun.”

The young stallion meditated a moment as he chewed. *You are the lady’s foals?* With that both received a brief picture of Mayrin.

They giggled. “Yes,” the girl agreed. “But humans say children, not foals.” She, too, stroked him gently. “You’re so soft. Do all Keplians have such soft fur?”

Shenn preened slightly. Beside him Theela snickered, a mental sending received only by her kin. Shenn tipped a warning hoof at her. He was finding these humans more than he had dreamed. The four Keplians listened as the children prattled on. It amused them to find they were at once treated as friends and equals in the conversation. There was no fear smell, no distrust of those who were different. The mare peered down at the intently childish faces.

*How do you know we are good?*

The girl appeared surprised. “No one could pass the gate runes who was not.”

*One who had great power might? A great Dark one?*

The child shook her head knowledgeably. “He might, if he was very, very strong, but the runes would still warn us. I heard Mother telling nurse about you. She said the runes answered to your touch, that they showed you to be of the Light.”

Theela absorbed that. The human girl was ready to trust easily, yet who was to say she was altogether wrong? Let them see how far she would move along that path.

*Would you care to ride?*

There were instant squeals of acceptance. Both children scrambled onto the mounting block in the courtyard center. The mare paced alongside and small light bodies squirmed into place on her sleek hide. She carried them carefully around the cobbles as her kin watched in amusement. From the door came a heavy step as it opened to reveal an outraged nurse.

The storm broke over the children’s heads. They should have been in bed; she had been hunting for them for too long. Already her bad leg was aching, and she had much to do yet before she could rest. Even the surprised Keplians came in for a scolding. They should have known better than to keep the children up so late, no matter how they brought up their own kind.

Still muttering, she swept the heirs away, but not before Shevaun had flung her arms about Theela’s lowered neck.

“Thank you for the ride.” She pattered off hastily after her brother as the mare stood motionless. So they were human foals. It was strange, and interesting, that the children had no fear of Keplians. They might have been taught to fear the abstract; but face-to-face with reality, they had trusted. Tharna had felt the first horrified recoil of her kin-sister as their minds had touched for the first time. That had changed with a second meeting and acceptance. She had watched and listened earlier as Eleeri warned the keep’s lord and lady. It might be that those two could never do more than read the surface safely.

But—her eyes gazed at the door through which the children had vanished—it could be that with a younger generation who had not learned the fears to hold them back . . . She reached for the remainder of her hay. There was no hurry; she would think on this for a while.

It was far into the night before all Jerrany’s preparations were done. Finally he returned to the solar where Mayrin and Eleeri waited. They, too, had been busy so that a pile of carefully chosen weaponry and items were stacked in one corner. A quick conversation brought all to a knowledge of what had been done by the others. Jerrany studied the marked candle. It was late. If they would ride early they must— His comments were interrupted by Eleeri. It would be she who left, but alone. Her friends should allow her time to reach the canyon, alert the decoy party, and ride back to the stream where she would meet them all.

“Bring the extra things you think to need on a couple of packhorses. They can be held to the rear of the battle with your own beasts as spare mounts should your men require them. Once the battle is joined, we ride hard for the tower. The Light go with us.”

At the nods of agreement she strode for the door. She would sleep, then rise to eat well. Warriors never knew when they would eat next. She left with the Keplians amid a rising clamor of excitement within the keep. Hylan had insisted on his turn to bear her. He cantered lightly over the rough ground, reveling in the dual sensation as their minds linked.

Some echo of that pleasure reached the mare and young stallion who paced them. Theela mourned it. For her there might never be a rider who could be truly kin. Her head came up. Yet, there might be, once the tower was beaten.

They reached the canyon, passing the runes that flared as mares and foals crowded around. Eleeri dropped to the ground and began to explain the plan. One by one they understood, absorbed, considered, and agreed. They had long since decided who would fight, who would remain to care for the smaller foals. Now the mares who chose thrust forward. Eleeri counted. Almost twenty would hunt beside the humans. That was well. The Keplians had an ability to handle evil at closer quarters, where humans would faint from the stench of the Dark. She went quietly to her keep. There she took up a bundle of torches twisted from dried grass around a core of a slow-, strong-burning wood.

Her steps led now to the great underground room below the keep. At her command doors opened, shelves revealed their burdens. Once again she chose weapons, mail to take for Jerrany. Then she stood allowing her mind to fall blank. It was like the sleek surface of a lake; no ripple marred the surface of her mind as she stood motionless.

In the deeps of her mind something stirred, like the movement below the waters of a huge fish that does not break the surface. She allowed it to sink again and waited. It returned with a silvery leap and before she could lose it, she shouted aloud the word that came.

“Ceearan!”

Light blazed from points in the ancient stones. Behind her there came a slow soft grinding as one final door opened. She spun, her eyes seeking eagerly. Despair suddenly filled her. What was this? Nothing but— She peered more closely. It looked like old damp clay. Damp? Her mind queried; it must have been here since the original owners left. How could clay remain damp so long, even hidden within such a hiding place? She remembered the bespelled cupboards upstairs; this might be as they. But why would the owners hide clay in such secret? Her hands went out as her shaking fingers were drawn into the surface.

Blank-faced, hands moving in a blur, she did what was laid upon her. Then she bundled the results into a cloth. This must come with her, a geas laid, but she did not fight the command. She half understood the reason, and within the geas she had felt the touch of she who had once been keep’s lady. She would trust her far-kin. Carrying the cloth and its contents, she tramped up the stairs again to eat and sleep.

By sunhigh she was far down the mountain trail. With her the Keplian mares paced, the obedient pony following with laden saddle. Eleeri was astride Tharna as the mare pranced smugly. Hylan trotted well ahead, scouting the track as they traveled.

They reached the lower hills without incident and Eleeri halted them to rest. They would wait the night out here; at dawn they could descend the final slopes to meet with her friends at the ford. Several times as they moved she had shot leapers disturbed by the passage of hooves. Now she paused to walk apart. Each time she had bled the beasts, and now she skinned and gutted them quickly. The entrails were buried, the bundle of skins hung high in a tree fork and covered with strong-scented leaves. If she returned safely, she would take them with her. Survival in this land required that nothing be wasted.

Swiftly she placed two of the small bodies on sharpened sticks over the fire that now crackled within a circle of stones. The remainder she jointed and placed in a pot half filled with water. To that she added such greens and herbs as she had. In the morning she would not wish to waste time cooking. But there would be no need; the stew would have simmered all night in preparation for her breakfast. She waited until the leapers were nicely roasted, then she ate, tearing the well-cooked meat from the bones with strong teeth.

In the center of the dozing group she laid out her bedroll and slipped within. Her dreams were vague but ominous. Far Traveler with grave eyes approached, his fingers gesturing warning signs. She saw Cynan and her mind focused, reaching out. He had been her friend for so short a time—but a friend all the same. What had befallen him with her going? Was he still alive? She was certain he was not. Did he, too, come to warn her? The figure faded into hills and she recognized the land about his Karsten hold. She seemed to follow as he made with faltering steps for the small graveyard that held his line.

She saw him reach out to where the flowering bush blazed in glory. The blossoms lit the sunlight to a greater beauty and his lips shaped her name. A small wind blew through the bush and bright blossoms fell to lie sprinkled upon the gray stone. There was a sense of peace, of a long journey accomplished at last. She did not weep then; it would not have felt right to mourn him. He had chosen his own time and trail. In the end he had remembered her. She would remember him. She slipped into a deeper sleep without dreams and woke refreshed. As she ate, she conversed with the four Keplians who were closest to her now.

The breeze blew warm; the sun already betrayed heat to come. She vaulted to Hylan’s warm back and the group trotted down the trail to where the rapids foamed and bubbled. Above them the water purled at the ford. Behind a clump of trees they waited until sounds spoke of their allies’ arrival. Eleeri waved, to be joined by her friends then.

“Let’s not waste time. My men all know what we planned. They have agreed to fight beside the Keplians.”

Eleeri nodded, sending the message to those who waited. Hooves thumped as they swung to the ford. Human riders moved out to join them, those last in line now leading the three ponies hold and canyon had discarded. Eleeri turned back, opening the heavy bundle she had removed from her beast.

“Jerrany, I found this in my keep. It is twin to the one I gave Mayrin. I ask that you wear it. The one who once owned it battled the tower in his time. It would have pleased him to know he has some part in this.” Under her hands the chain shirt fell free, gleaming in the sunlight. There was a subtle shimmer to the metal links, a shifting of colors like oil on water.

Jerrany reached out and donned it wordlessly. He had owned no more than the usual metal rings sewn to leather. But this . . . this was a great gift. How many of these did Eleeri have? he wondered silently. He knew of three now. Were there more yet? But he would not ask. It was enough that they all wore one, and Mayrin was safer so. That was all that was his proper concern. He glanced down, to see that their friend was not quite done.

From the same bundle she now drew daggers. The blades gleamed in the sun, a soft silver glow so that he sucked in his breath sharply.

“Silver?”

She smiled. “Silver and some way of tempering that makes them steel-keen. Wear them. They are doubly dangerous to the Dark.”

He removed his own dagger to replace it with one of the proffered weapons. Mayrin followed suit. His leather ring-sewn shirt he hung on a branch, the daggers hooked into its belt. Then he turned to the waiting Keplian. He bowed and stepped forward. Theela stood as he jumped for her strong back, then as his legs curled about her, she curveted a little, testing his seat. He laughed, stroking the proud black neck.

“I know, I am here only so long as you will it. I’ll remember.” He watched as his wife mounted, the young stallion bending his haunches to sit so she could mount, heavy in her mail.

Eleeri swung onto Hylan, sending him pacing slowly into the rushing stream. In the breast of her mail the thing she had been driven to make lumped uncomfortably. She eased it with a surreptitious hand. They left the stream and ford behind as they struck out in a direct line for the tower. Soon the decoy party would reach the rasti to begin their attack. The attention of the tower would be drawn away. They must make the best time they could without being noticeable until then. Into a growing heat they moved, hearts high.

Far to the northwest ten men-at-arms traveled with eighteen Keplian mares. One of their number was a mere boy who led the three spare mounts. The others were seasoned fighters, but their eyes were nervous as well as alert. Even the blue-eyed Keplian leader failed to completely convince them that their companions were of the Light.

Pehnane was silent. Humans believed as they wished. So long as these fought, he cared not what they thought. He had joined the party just before the humans rode up. It was for him to lead this group to the rasti. Then he would leave to be with the far-daughter. He trotted slowly on toward the territory of the rasti pack. Soon he would be with those he loved.

Now burrows were appearing where the females laired to give birth. The boy’s pony was sidling and stepping higher, nostrils flared. One hind leg slipped into the mouth of a burrow and the pony squealed as it staggered. Unprepared, the boy slid over the heaving shoulder to land flat on his back. Two mares whirled as with a chittering two female rasti hurtled forth to attack. Their teeth were at the boy’s throat as he scrabbled to regain his footing in the rough soil. Before the rasti could sink teeth into the soft flesh, the Keplian mares arrived. Flat-eared heads snaked out to seize, to crush as the rasti were flung backward. Hooves stamped the life from them, satisfaction reaching all who watched.

At the head of the column, a warrior relaxed. These might be odd allies, but allies they were nonetheless. The boy lurched to his feet. Clumsily he bowed low to the mares before remounting his sweating pony. Honor where honor was due—he owed them a debt. The group moved on in better heart, the tenuous beginnings of battle-trust established. Soon they were close to the main burrows where the soil was turned.

In the tower, that which dwelled was enraged. Had he not given orders that strength was not to be futilely wasted? He would punish these fools in such a way they would never forget. He drew on his captive to drive home his wrath on the defiant ones. His attention focused powerfully northward, where in a running battle the Light gave good account of itself.

Both humans and Keplians had followed a suggestion of the war-wise oldest man-at-arms. Now they ducked often into the running water where the rasti could not follow. From there they could emerge to strike again and again. Many showed wounds, but none as yet had fallen. The enraged tower concentrated in an effort to discover the enemy. All its attention flowed outward to the north.

Then to the base of the tower came seven to be joined by a great stallion. His eyes glowed an incandescent blue as he reared to a halt. Into their minds came a cry like a trumpet blast.

*Now, now is the time!* His form shrunk and twisted. Eleeri dropped to the ground to seize her pendant. With that clutched in her hand, she approached the tower’s base. Lifting the pendant, she ran a tiny hoof lightly around a block of stone, murmuring a word. A faint gleam followed the path of her pendant. The stone creaked, groaned, and slowly slid aside. Before them was a wide smooth path leading into darkness. She turned to the Keplians.

“Hold the gate for us until we return or you know our deaths.”

She reached up to hug each of them lovingly, then with squared shoulders she led the way through the arch. Mayrin and Jerrany followed. Their footsteps faded into silence as the Keplians took up guard. They would wait.