Mistress of Animals Page 6

  Privately for Najud, she added, *After all, it’s just the mind-glows I needed to see, not the ground.*

  “So, there I was, maybe twenty-five or thirty miles south of here, when I found three more strays. Human ones.”

  She took advantage of the reaction to set the bowl down and pick up the skin of water again. Najud could see her throat working as she swallowed.

  After she put the skin down, she patted the air to calm everyone.

  “I landed out of sight—didn’t want to scare them. My walking in without warning was bad enough. Two boys, they were, and a very injured man. The boys are Zabrash and Birssahr, and the man is your predecessor”—with a nod to Najud—“Umzakhilin, the zarawinnaj.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Penrys answered their questions far into the evening.

  “The boys were out herding, three days before the camp was due to move again. They were down in some pocket of land to the southwest, with their sheep, and stayed overnight.”

  Jirkat commented to Najud, “This is their first migration. We put them together in their first year—makes it easier for them.”

  “When they came back to camp the next evening,” Penrys continued, “they found it like you did. Scared them to death, I imagine, though they didn’t say so, of course. There was just one person there—this Umzakhilin.”

  She swallowed. “The boys think he was trampled. He was sleeping when I saw him and we didn’t wake him up. He can’t walk—his feet and his legs are broken. The boys say he doesn’t talk, either. They can’t make him understand where he is, and he doesn’t respond to them.”

  She looked at Jirkat. “I think you should be very proud of these boys. They told me how they sat in the ruins of that encampment”—she hooked her thumb back at it—“and decided what they should do.

  “They couldn’t abandon the zarawinnaj, but he could neither ride nor walk, nor help them in any way. So they built a travois, two long poles with canvas slung between them. They planned to tie it to a horse to drag and take him to the winter camp.”

  Penrys raised a finger. “Mind you, they only had their own two horses and that one flock of sheep at the time. So before they could go, they needed more horses. They did what we did—they went looking for strays. They didn’t go very far, but they added twenty-three horses and more sheep—they’ve got sixty or so now, I think. They picked up some cattle, too, but couldn’t keep them. And they got some of the missing goats, about forty.”

  Ilzay said, “Just think, nine years old. But they’re only, what, twenty-five miles away, after two months? What happened?”

  Najud said, “Ambition. Too many animals for two inexperienced herdsmen to control.”

  Penrys nodded. “That’s right. They knew about how far the winter camp was, and in what direction. They knew it was too many animals, but how could they not try to keep them all? Whatever had happened, the clan would need everything they could bring.

  “So they ransacked the encampment looking for food. They pilfered two kamahab, since there was no way they could raise a kazr by themselves, and decided to take it slow. Dragging an injured man on a travois would slow them down anyway, but they hoped they could do at least five miles a day.”

  Yuknaj asked, “What happened?”

  “The herds slowed them down. First one fragment would go off on its own, and then another, and they would have to stop and fetch it back. Winter food for the clan, you understand. It didn’t matter how long it took, as long as they got there before the snow with as much food as they could bring.

  “So some days they would make two miles, or three. And then they’d have to camp there while they lost all that distance bringing the strays back to the herds. They had to abandon the cattle—too independent.”

  She rubbed her hand over her face. “I found cattle on that route, when I was returning in the dark. We can probably get them back.”

  “The horses were a mixed blessing. Some days they traveled well together, but if something happened, one group might split off for ten miles and need to be tracked the next day. The sheep had to be treated as separate flocks—they didn’t know how to make the bellwethers cooperate. But the goats, the goats were the worst.”

  Winnajhubr burst out laughing. “I can well believe it.”

  “It’s a good thing these boys were stubborn,” Penrys said, “They sat before me, having guested me hastily with a bit of their dinner, and told me solemnly that if the goats cost them one more week, they were going to slaughter them all and bring back the wind-dried meat instead. You could see that Zabrash, at least, was hoping it would turn out that way.”

  She half-smiled. “You never saw two more exhausted youngsters, but they’re tough. They’ve kept Umzakhilin alive and set his broken bones. He should be able to walk by now, but they can’t get him to try.”

  Najud asked, “How did you leave it with them?”

  “I told them who you all were, and where, and told them a little about myself to explain how I got there, foreign wizard that I am. Then I said I would come again in one or two days and tell them our plans.”

  Hadishti said to Najud, “Their families, like ours, are missing, too. But they made the same decision you did, bikraj, to bring everything back to the rest of the clan at the zudiqazd. I don’t see any other course than to travel south to meet them, and sweep them up with us.”

  Najud said, “Ilzay, your trail may be correct, but it’s two months cold, and winter is coming. Tomorrow we should round up the strays around the camp that Penrys found, and then, the next morning, set out for the zudiqazd. Penrys can return to tell the boys we’re on our way when we leave.

  He looked around the fire, but no one voiced an objection.

  Late that night, alone in their kamah, Najud kneaded the soreness from Penrys’s back while she melted in satisfaction.

  “I don’t suppose you’d do this every night?” she murmured.

  “Only when you’ve earned it,” he said, and slapped her shoulder lightly to tell her he was done.

  “It was exhilarating,” she said, her voice muffled from lying on her stomach. “Flying like that, I mean. No one to notice, no one scared of me. Almost hated to come down again.”

  “They’re grateful for your help,” Najud told her. “We might have missed those boys, going south, if our routes diverged and we weren’t aware of them.”

  “Yes, but I’ll always be some foreign wizard, here. Worse, one with wings. And if they knew about the chain…”

  She said it matter-of-factly, but Najud knew it reflected her deep sense of isolation. His stomach clenched, as he recognized that just bringing her to meet his family was not going to be enough to make her want to stay, to give her a home.

  Whoever made her had stolen not just her past, but maybe her future, too, unless he could persuade her to make her own future, the way she wanted it.

  What they shared was a start, but it wasn’t enough, he reflected, even if she purred as he stroked his fingers softly down her bare back.

  CHAPTER 12

  It took until late afternoon for all the newly-located strays to be brought back. Najud left Sharma, Winnajhubr, and Yuknaj with the herds near the camp, and formed three more pairs for Penrys to lead—Jirkat and his brother Khashghuy, Dimghuy and Ilzay, and Hadishti and himself.

  Penrys guided each team from the air until they reached a particular group, then headed back to the camp to take the next pair. By the time the first team had made it back to the main herds with their charges, she was ready for them to go out again.

  She landed after Najud and Hadishti had gotten to the last straying flock and walked up to Najud.

  “I thought I might go back down to the kids tonight, rather than make them wait another day. What should I tell them?”

  He looked up at the clear sky. “Maybe sixty miles altogether, or more, in the dark. You sure you want to do that?”

  Penrys shrugged. “There’re no clouds to block the moon, and the landmarks are simple. If I d
o get lost, I’ll just wait until daylight again. I’ll want to be back to travel with you tomorrow, since there are herd fragments to pick up along the way, and if I quarter your path while you go, I bet I’ll find even more. You might not make it in a single day.”

  Hadishti said, “She’s right. The older animals know this is the time of year they come south, toward the winter camp. We might find many of them on the way.”

  Najud nodded as he considered that. “Be careful,” he told her. “Tell them we come tomorrow night, or more likely the next day. Tell them to stay where they are and keep their herds together, until we join them.”

  “And to hold onto their goats,” he added, with a grin.

  As Penrys turned to leave, Hadishti called out, “Tell them they’ll travel the rest of the way in a good kazr—mine. Umzakhilin, too.”

  Two mornings later, just before mid-day, Penrys rode into the small camp, guiding Najud and their companions.

  The boys must have heard the noise of the herds following behind them for some time, because they were ready for them, waiting on their horses.

  Jirkat and Hadishti cantered up to greet them, as the eldest presently in the clan. “Well done, sons of the Kurighdunaq!” Jirkat called, and rode up to each in turn, clasping his shoulder with one hand as though they were grown men.

  The way the boys’ shyness dissolved into pride brought a smile to Penrys’s face.

  Hadishti waited for Jirkat to finish, then she asked them, “Where’s Umzakhilin?”

  Zabrash dismounted. “This way, lijti.” He led his horse to one of the two kamahab and tethered it to the ground outside the flap with hers before leading her inside.

  Najud told Birssahr, “We’ll stop briefly to eat, and to integrate the herds, but I want to move on another fifteen or twenty miles, if we can, before we camp tonight. We brought food for everyone, and we can sort things out better after we camp.”

  “Yes, zarawinnaj,” the boy said. He rode to the other kamah and tethered his horse there, then ducked inside to begin packing.

  Zabrash came out of the first kamah and saw what his friend was doing, then walked over to help.

  With the horses tethered out of the way, and everyone there except the three youngest who were riding the perimeter of the expanded herds, they squatted on the ground for a cold lunch and a quick interrogation.

  Najud asked Hadishti, “How is your zarawinnaj?”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with him, lij.” She cocked her head at Zabrash. “The boy told me there were hoof marks on the ground, and it does look like he might have been trampled. They did a good job keeping the legs straight, and the feet bound, and it’s healed cleanly…”

  “But?” Najud prompted.

  “But something’s wrong. Not the bones—that is, he may have trouble walking again, won’t know until he tries—but that’s not it.”

  She cleared her throat. “I know this man well, lij, and he no longer knows me.”

  Her glance included both Najud and Penrys. “I think this is a bikraj matter. We have no bikrajab in the clan, but we hope my older son will be one for us. When we were young, Umzakhilin thought he might become one himself, but he chose another path. Still, he’s the one who recognized my son’s potential. He heard him.”

  She tapped her forehead meaningfully.

  Penrys looked at Najud uncertainly. “Should we take a look?”

  He shook his head. “Tonight, in camp. We have to make as much distance as we can before the snows come.”

  After meeting the boys, Najud and Jirkat decided that the organization of their march had to change to accommodate the problem of too many animals and not enough herdsmen. By now, they estimated they’d recovered close to half of the herds.

  They still fretted about enough food for the winter camp, but Penrys kept her darker thoughts to herself—if their missing people were never found, they had plenty of food for the rest.

  The more experienced among them, especially Ilzay, thought they were four days from the winter camp, at the speed of the cattle, perhaps forty-five miles, and no one seemed to think the season’s first snow was imminent, so their sense of urgency was somewhat relieved.

  The anxiety about their missing clansmen was not diminished, but time had begun to wear their dread to something more like resignation, and they spoke of their kin as lost, as if they would not be found.

  Penrys took over the general task of scouting, from the air, keeping them headed steadily south, aimed between two distant hills that, she was told, pointed the way to the winter camp. Periodically, she swung around the perimeter of the herds, looking for breakaways, and listening for more fragments.

  Najud and Hadishti rode in the van. Hadishti led a pair of horses, yoked together with a clever arrangement that held them a fixed distance apart. Between them a canvas litter was slung for the injured Umzakhilin. The boys had helped make it, under Najud’s direction. Najud led a saddled horse for Penrys, so that she could take a break from the constant flight and still keep up.

  Four were now assigned to the lengthening pack trains—Khashghuy and Winnajhubr were joined by Jirkat and Ilzay who took charge of the summer encampment goods. Everyone else, all five of them, rode the back and side edges of the herds, moving them along gently but firmly. Even the goats behaved.

  Penrys reveled in the free flying that afternoon, forward for a bit to check the route in front of them, then round the circle of the herd, listening for more strays outside the bounds. She didn’t find any more—perhaps they were too far from the summer encampment by now.

  The outriders waved to her, when she passed. Maybe they could get used to her, after all.

  CHAPTER 13

  After dinner, Najud and Penrys joined Hadishti in her kazr. They brought lanterns that they hung near the central fire, to shed light on Umzakhilin, lying quietly on his bedroll on the carpets. Dimghuy and the two boys hugged the outer wall to stay out of the way, but Hadishti had sent Sharma to Yuknaj for a little while.

  Penrys could see the gleam of Umzakhilin’s eyes. He was awake, but when she probed him lightly, he didn’t seem aware of his surroundings. At least he didn’t seem to be in any pain.

  “You or me?” she asked Najud.

  “I’ll try first,” he said. “You watch him.”

  She held her mind on the injured man while Najud tried to bespeak him. *Umzakhilin, I’m Najud. I’m here to help you. You’re safe, you have friends here.*

  Penrys could tell that the words were understood but it was as though they didn’t matter at all, they just sank away.

  “He hears you,” she told Najud, while Hadishti sat and watched, worry plain in her demeanor. “But he doesn’t care. It’s like… well, it reminds me of shock.”

  Hadishti said, “Two months is a long time for that. But he does follow orders, like a man disturbed that way—he eats and drinks, if we hold it to his mouth, and he gives a sort of warning, to help the boys keep him clean.”

  “That’s not a good sign,” Penrys said. “It means he’s accommodated himself to his condition and plans to stay that way.”

  “No! You can’t let him,” Hadishti protested. She lay a hand on his shoulder. “He’s a fine man. Bring him back to us, bikrajti.”

  Appealed to directly that way, Penrys looked at Najud and lifted an eyebrow. He rose to yield his place by the man’s side to her, and took her spot.

  She thought about it a moment before she began. This man had been the zarawinnaj for his clan, a position—as she was beginning to understand from Najud’s efforts—of extreme responsibility. The lives of two hundred people, the future of his clan, were in his hands.

  A man who made decisions that might have serious consequences—he should want to come back and help his people. What could make him give up this way?

  *Umzakhilin, your people need you. They’ve asked me to show you the way back.*

  She listened for any sign he understood her, that he cared. When she glanced at Najud, he shrugged, cle
arly not able to tell.

  *Umzakhilin, come help your people. Many have survived, and they need you.*

  He wasn’t mind-deaf, Penrys could tell that much. She’d never met a completely untrained wizard before so she had nothing to compare him to. The students who came to the Collegium in Ellech were already far beyond this.

  *It would help your kinsmen if you could show me what happened in the summer encampment.*

  That suggestion sparked an immediate reaction—terror—and his face spasmed to match.

  “No one can hurt you here,” she said aloud, and echoed it in mind-speech. “We are two bikrajab, helping your clan. No one here will harm you.”

  “Hadishti is here,” she said. “Her son is now a nal-jarghal, training to bring honor to the clan, all because you recognized him for what he was. She wants to thank you.”

  That produced an odd sort of resonance, as though it interested him.

  “Say something, Hadishti,” Penrys murmured. “Reassure him.”

  “Everything she says is true,” Hadishti said, and she leaned down and patted his cheek. “We all want you to come back to us. I look forward to speaking to you again, alone, just the two of us.”

  Her son Dimghuy looked down, and the two boys stared at him. Penrys suppressed a smile at the little family drama. She’d known from their travel together that Hadishti was a widow, but she had no idea if the injured man had a family, and now was not the time to ask.

  “Show me what happened in the summer encampment. It was long ago, months ago.” She echoed everything in mind-speech, convinced that using both channels was letting more of it get through.

  “Was it daytime or night? Was it raining?”

  He didn’t reply in mind-speech, but an image began to form that she could see. It was tinged with fear—he was showing her his nightmare, the thing he had retreated so far from that he could no longer speak.