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Authors: Joan Wolf

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BOOK: The Horsemasters
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Bror scowled ferociously and did not reply.

It was Berta who answered the angry chief. “No one will have to stay with the women, Ronan, because the women are coming too.”

At that, Ronan’s head snapped around. He stared in astonishment at the madonna-calm face of Berta. “You cannot,” he said.

“Certainly we can,” she replied, not one jot of her serenity ruffled by his glare.

Ronan turned now and looked at Nel. Her face bore the same serene look as Berta’s. She met his eyes, but did not speak.

Ina, the two-year-old daughter of Berta and Heno, toddled over and sat on Ronan’s foot. “Go with Ronan,” she said with satisfaction and gave him a beatific smile.

“The women are determined, Ronan,” Crim said with a smile.

“We cannot drag the babies down the Atlas!”

“The babies will be easier than this age will be,” said Beki ruefully, coming to pick up Berta’s daughter. “The babies we can strap on cradleboards to our backs.”

For the first time since they had sat down, Nel spoke. “The Horsemasters move their whole tribe,” she pointed out gently. “Surely they have women and children too.”

Ronan looked from his wife to the faces of the rest of his rebellious followers. Then he thrust his hands into his hair and bent his head so that his face was hidden. They all stared nervously at the long slim fingers that were curved into the thickness of the raven black hair.

Bror drew a determined breath. “We are not trying to undermine your authority or go behind your back,” he said. “You are still our chief. That is why we feel that we must come with you.”

“I see.” Ronan’s voice was muffled.

Mait looked anxiously at Nel. She was watching her husband. “Ronan,” she said now accusingly. “Stop laughing!”

“Laughing?” said Asok indignantly. “What is funny here?”

Ronan raised his flushed face. “The picture of me, stalking into the Great Cave followed by a train of squalling babies.”

“We won’t let the babies squall,” Fara promised with a grin.

“That will be a nice change,” Crim remarked.

Ronan sobered. “I thank you all. It is nice that you are so concerned for me. But we have never taken these horses out of the valley. I cannot trust them with the children.”

“We tried them out while you were gone,” Berta volunteered. “They were perfectly fine.”

Ronan looked again at Nel. “You took the horses out of the valley?”

“They were very well behaved,” she said sedately. “I feel quite confident they will prove to be no trouble.”

“Give up,” Crim advised him. “We have.”

“Go with Ronan!” Ina chanted again, liking the sound of the words.

Once more, Ronan began to laugh. “All right,” he said when at last he had caught his breath. “But if I say you must return to the valley, then I will expect to be obeyed. We have no guarantee what the tribes will decide to do.”

“That is precisely why we are all going with you,” Bror said grimly, to which the rest of the tribe signaled their sober agreement.

 

Chapter Twenty-two

 

Of the six tribes Ronan had sent messengers to, three had answered his summons. From the Tribe of the Leopard came Unwar, the chief; Hamar, the shaman; and eight of the chief nirum.

From the Tribe of the Buffalo came Haras, the chief; Jessl, the shaman; Rilik, Thorn’s father; and seven other of the chief nirum.

From the Tribe of the Red Deer came Arika, the Mistress; her brother, Neihle; three matriarchs and five other men. Her daughter, Morna, she had left at home.

Most of these people had been gathered at the cave for several days before Ronan arrived with his following. The chiefs of the Leopard and of the Buffalo, knowing Ronan was coming from the Altas, had been prepared to wait, and they spent the time conferring between themselves. The delegation from the Red Deer arrived only the day before Ronan and the Tribe of the Wolf.

It had been an adventurous journey down the Altas, as the horses had not been quite as placid as Nel had predicted. After the first two days, however, the colts had settled down and proved reasonably obedient.

Never, for as long as he lived, would Thorn forget the moment when the men of the Kindred tribes first saw the Tribe of the Wolf on horseback. He had been standing before the Great Cave with Rilik and Haras, and when the horses rounded the turn and came into sight, Haras, squinting into the sun, had first mistaken them for a wild herd.

“Horses!” the Buffalo chief cried, with a mixture of alarm and surprise. Then his breath sucked in audibly as he saw the human figures on the horses’ backs.

As Thorn watched his tribe approach, fierce pride surged through his heart. Ronan and Nel rode at the tribe’s head, Ronan on Cloud, the big gray colt he had tamed himself, and Nel upon White Foot. They rode as well as any of the Horsemasters, those two, Thorn thought: upright and proud, their thighs slanted slightly forward, their knees bent, their lower legs back. Behind them came the rest of the tribe, with some of the men leading packhorses behind them. The dogs ran about between the horses’ legs, except for Nigak, who had positioned himself firmly at Ronan’s side.

“Dhu!” said Haras. “I cannot believe what I am seeing!”

“Is it possible?” Rilik breathed.

From all around came the sound of running feet as the tribes came racing to see the impossible.

“Men on horses!”

“Not just men—women too!”

“I cannot believe it.”

“How did they do it?”

Then, fearfully, a voice asked, “Is it the Horsemasters?”

“Na,” came a feminine voice with the accent of the Red Deer. “It is Ronan!”

“Ronan never said aught to us about this,” Haras managed to get out at last. He glanced reproachfully at Thorn.

The horses and riders had stopped at a discreet distance from the gawking onlookers.

Thorn’s nostrils were flared with pride. “We have been taming horses for two years now,” he said to Haras. “This is the first time we have taken them out of the valley.”

“You too?” Rilik turned to stare at his son in wonder. “Do you ride too, Thorn?”

“Sa,” Thorn replied. “I am one of the first to get on them because I am so light.”

Rilik’s mouth was open with amazement.

“Stay back everyone!” Thorn called as the crowd began to surge forward. “You will frighten the horses if you get too close.”

Everyone took a step backward.

“Father, you and the chiefs may come with me,” Thorn said grandly, and he began to walk forward, followed by Rilik, Haras, and Unwar. Arika and Neihle stood a little apart from the others, in the shadow of the enormous tunnel through the hillside that formed the Great Cave.

Ronan flicked his eyes once toward the place where his mother stood before greeting the four men who had joined him. “Thorn,” he said. “Rilik.” Then, formally, to Unwar and Haras: “I greet the chief of the Leopard and the chief of the Buffalo.”

“Arika of the Red Deer is also here,” Unwar returned, having seen that glance toward the cave, “but the chiefs of the Squirrel, the Bear, and the Fox declined to come.”

“I see,” Ronan said expressionlessly.

The chiefs stared with amazement at Cloud, who snorted, rolled his eyes, and danced sideways. Ronan patted his arched neck and the colt quieted.

The chiefs had hastily backed up, nervous around the dancing hooves. “This is astonishing!” Haras said from the safety of his newly gained distance. “You never told us you were riding horses!”

Ronan sat calmly upon his excited colt, replying to their many questions, but all the while Thorn sensed that his real attention was elsewhere, was focused on the red-haired woman who stood with such absolute stillness within the shadow of the cave’s opening. Cloud, sensing the tension in his rider, began to swish his tail and trot in place.

“The horses are tired, and so are the children,” Nel said to her husband in her soft husky voice. “I am thinking we should get all settled before we talk further.”

Ronan looked at her, and for the first time in Thorn’s memory, he had the feeling that Ronan didn’t know what to do. His face looked strained and taut. Cloud tossed his head up and down, and then he reared. “Get off of him, Ronan,” Nel said calmly, and Ronan obediently slid to the ground and once more patted the gray colt’s neck. “You said you knew of a fairly enclosed place to pasture the horses,” Nel continued, talking to her husband in the same ordinary tone. “Why don’t you take the men there, and I will get the women and children into shelter.”

Again Ronan nodded. Yet still he remained, irresolute, all of his being taut with his awareness of his mother. Nel said, “Thorn will go with you,” and she slid off White Foot and beckoned to Thorn to take the colt’s reins. Then she walked over to Ronan.

To Thorn it seemed as if her closeness served to sever the spell that was holding Ronan in thrall. He looked down into his wife’s worried eyes and smiled a little crookedly. “All right, minnow,” he said. Briefly he touched her cheek with two of his fingers and let out his breath. “I am all right.” He said to Thorn, “Come along and we’ll pasture the horses.”

Nel waited until the two of them had moved off before turning to the chiefs. “You will have to show us where it will be best for our tribe to camp,” she said, “We do not know this cave.”

“Of course,” replied Haras, who was by nature a genial man. “There is plenty of room within the cave itself.”

The representatives of the other tribes all watched with awed fascination as the women and children of the Tribe of the Wolf began to stream toward the cave, while the men led the horses away.

“Berta,” Nel said as one of the women drew abreast of her, “will you take charge of the camp?”

“Of course.” Berta’s large brown eyes glanced shrewdly from Nel to the group in the cave’s opening. “No need to concern yourself with us, we shall be fine.”

Nel gave her a grateful smile and then began to walk toward the group from the Red Deer.

Neihle stood on one side of Arika, and Erek on the other. Tall men both, but the sheer presence generated by the small slender figure between overpowered them. Nel glanced at the rest of the delegation and registered with relief the absence of Morna.

“Mistress,” Nel said respectfully and bowed her head.

“Nel,” Arika replied. “I did not know if I would see you here.”

Nel raised her head. The Mistress looked older, she thought. There was a sprinkle of gray in her hair. Age would never completely dim the beauty of Arika’s face, however, nor soften its utter ruthlessness.

“How is Fali?” Nel asked.

“She died shortly after you left us,” Arika replied calmly, not at all concerned to soften the blow.

Nel closed her lips to stifle a cry of pain.

It was Arika’s turn to ask a question. “Have you married him?”

Nel nodded, her lips still taut.

“Have you a child?”

Nel drew a long breath and gathered all her forces. “Na,” she said evenly. “We have not.”

Arika frowned.

“I am surprised that you have come yourself to this meeting, Mistress,” Nel said next, anxious to steer Arika away from the too-tender subject of children. “It is not usually your way to mingle with those of other tribes.”

“It is not a far journey from the home of the Red Deer to the Great Cave,” Arika replied. “I thought it would be wise to see for myself what plots Ronan might be spinning.” She looked beyond Nel to where the men of the Wolf were leading the horses away. “I must confess, I had not expected this.”

“It was Ronan’s idea to try to tame our own horses,” Nel said.

“I am sure it was,” Arika agreed in almost the exact deceptively pleasant voice her son could use. She regarded Nel dispassionately. “Now I understand why he needed you, Nel. You have ever had the Mother’s touch with animals.”

Nel tasted bitter anger in the back of her throat. Her narrow nostrils quivered. “You have never understood Ronan,” she said, “You have not the heart for it.”

Arika looked surprised by Nel’s reaction, and then she turned thoughtful. “I understand him all too well.”

Never had anyone seen Nel’s face look so cold. “You understand nothing,” she said to the Mistress of the Red Deer, turned her back and walked away.

* * * *

Ronan pastured the horses in a grassy valley near to the Great Cave and delegated several of the men to remain with them, to keep a watch out for wild animals.

“The Horsemasters keep their horse-herd together this way,” he explained. “Horses are like men, their instinct is to stay together. The grass is plentiful here and we should have little trouble with strays. However, our horses are accustomed to the valley, where they have few enemies. We must be doubly vigilant to keep them safe.”

The men agreed fervently. No one wanted to see the work of the last two years go down under the attack of a lion, or stampede away into the hills.

When Ronan returned with the rest of the men to the Great Cave, Arika was gone from the entrance. Beki and Yoli were there instead, waiting to take them to the place where the women had set up camp and were cooking supper.

The tribes met that night in council at the place in the Great Cave where the chief men usually consulted during a Gathering. It was cold within the tunnel near the river, and they built a fire in the hearthplace and gathered around it, each leader accompanied by his train of followers. Ronan brought to the fire the men who had been with him on his last spying mission as well as Bror, Crim, Berta, Beki, and Nel. Nel sat beside Ronan. Neihle sat beside Arika. The shamans of the Leopard and the Buffalo sat beside their chiefs. The rest of the followers sat slightly behind.

Ronan spoke first, his manner brisk and businesslike. “I thank you for answering so promptly to my call. I had hoped to see the men of the Fox, the Squirrel, and the Bear as well, but I understand they chose not to come.”

“Like us, the Tribe of the Squirrel dwells on the Atata,” Haras said. “As you reported that the Horsemasters were coming down the River of Gold, they felt they would be safe.”

Unwar of the Leopard added, “And the tribes of the Fox and the Bear, which dwell south of us on the River of Gold, feel they also will be out of reach of the invaders.”

BOOK: The Horsemasters
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