She only saw Cor a few times in the course of their duty. He remained near the head of-the little valley and stayed to himself.
The moon, now waning, rose near the end of Gabria’s watch. She and Nara stood under the trees at the mouth of the valley with the mare, Halle. The night was quiet; the dogs sprawled on the ground, panting.
Suddenly, Nara tensed. Her head came up and her nostrils flared. Gabria, there is trouble.
A stray breeze wafted down from the hills, disturbing the mares. Halle stamped nervously and whinnied a warning. The dogs sprang to their feet. Gabria reached for the horn that hung close by.
All at once, a blood-chilling squeal tore through the night. The mares panicked. Like a storm breaking, Nara bolted up the creek, the dogs fast on her heels. Gabria hung on desperately to the Hunnuli and clutched the horn to her chest. Shouting and wild whinnying broke out ahead. Terrified mares galloped down the valley away from some horror. Nara had to swerve violently to avoid them.
The small valley narrowed, and trees crowded around the stream, making it difficult for Nara to run. The dogs surged ahead. They scrabbled over a gravel bank, came around a curve, and leaped a fallen tree into a clearing. Cor was already there, on his feet, his sword drawn, watching a cave lion crouched over the body of a dead mare. Faint moonlight gleamed on the lion’s fangs and on the white blaze on the dead horse’s face.
The tableau seemed to freeze for a moment as Nara and the dogs burst into the clearing, then everything shattered into a chaos of noise and motion. The dogs leaped at the snarling cat from either side and Nara drove her front hooves into the lion’s head. The cat was knocked off the dead horse into a tumbling pile of snapping dogs. Gabria lifted the horn and blew peal after peal of strident notes.
During the furor, Gabria forgot about Cor. He slunk back to the trees’ shadows and watched the fight, making no move to help. He studied everything for a moment, then a calculating smile tightened his -thin mouth. Without a word, he faded into the darkness.
Before long, the lion had had enough. It fought its way out from under the dogs and bolted into the underbrush with a squall of pain and rage. The dogs were about to follow when a whistle brought them to heel. Mounted men bearing torches and spears crowded into the clearing behind Jorlan. Their faces were grim as they looked over both the dead mare and the boy on his Hunnuli. Several men stooped over the body and studied the tracks of the lion, then they disappeared into the brush on the cat’s trail.
Jorlan looked up at Gabria. “Report, Outrider.”
Gabria explained as best she could what had happened. It was then she realized that Cor was gone. Her heart sank. It was horrible enough that this hideous killing had happened during her first night as an outrider, but without Cor to collaborate her story, the clansmen would heap the blame, undeserved or not, upon her. The lion had found the straying mare near Cor’s position, and even Nara had not discovered its presence in time. But those were merely excuses. The Khulinin would never forgive her for the loss of the precious mare.
Gabria could see the men’s faces in the flickering torchlight; it was obvious what they were thinking. Only Jorlan seemed puzzled. He had dismounted and was walking carefully around the clearing, scanning the ground.
Nara neighed as Cor walked out of the trees. He was leading his limping horse. His clothes were tom and dirty. He tried to look surprised and horrified as he saluted Jorlan.
“This was your guard position, Cor. Where were you?” the leader demanded.
“My horse bolted a while ago and fell into a gully north of here. He hurt his foreleg, as you can see. I had a rough time getting us out of there.” Cor sounded unhappy, but he could not completely hide the smugness in his voice.
Nara snorted in contempt.
Jorlan crossed his arms and raked the man with a furious glare. “While you were so conveniently absent, the cat killed a daughter of Vayer.”
Cor shook his fist at Gabria. “It is the exile! His curse has brought this down on us. I tried to warn you.”
The other men looked at their leader uncertainly. All of them were unsure how to deal with this strange boy and the complicated twists of his destiny. It was easy to dump the blame for this tragedy at the Corin’s feet, but the men knew Cor well and they sensed something was not quite right about his story.
Jorlan refused to respond to Cor’s feigned anger. “The boy told me you were here before him, on foot, and that you made no effort to help.”
“He lies!” Cor shouted.
“I don’t believe so,” Jorlan said. “I have seen your tracks.”
Cor looked sideways at Gabria and realized he had made a serious mistake. He licked his lips. “The exile should not have been guarding the mares. It is his fault this happened.” He paused, sensing he was losing his credibility. The other warriors were muttering among themselves, and Jorlan was staring at the dead mare. Gabria was watching Cor from the back of the Hunnuli, as if waiting for him to trip himself. Cor’s anger and embarrassment suddenly overwhelmed his common sense and he threw his sword at the Hunnuli. It missed and landed at her feet.
“All right, I was here,” he shouted furiously. “My horse threw me. But that sorcerer’s servant was the cause of this. He drew the lion here and was going to leave me to be killed, too. We cannot let him stay in this clan!. He will doom us, just like the Corin.”
Jorlan strode forward, struck Cor to the ground, and stood over him. “You are a disgrace. You are relieved of all duties as an outrider and your behavior will be reported to the chieftain for further punishment.” Jorlan’s voice was cold with disgust.
Cor looked wildly around the dark clearing for some sign of support from the other warriors. When he saw only the disdain on their faces, he jumped to his feet and ran into the trees. No one moved to stop him.
Gabria spent the last hour of her duty in a blur. She was badly shaken by the lion’s attack and by the hatred she had seen in Cor’s eyes. It was all she could do to stop her hands from trembling while she helped the men bury the dead mare in the clearing. The women would come later. to bless the mound and send the dead mare’s spirit to Amara, but Gabria paused long enough to whisper a quiet prayer of peace. The familiar, comforting words in her head eased her own pain a little, and when her replacement came at midnight, Gabria was able to bid good-night to the remaining men and leave the valley with a straight back.
The ride across the fields to the treld was the last quiet moment she had for the rest of the night. News of the attack had spread rapidly through the encampment and the clan was in an uproar. A hunting parry was being organized. Groups of men clustered around the tents, discussing the import of the news while the women wept for the mare and her unborn foal. Cor had stormed into the hall and, after gulping down a flask of wine, was cursing Gabria and Jorlan at the top of his lungs, protesting his own innocence. Jorlan and most of his outriders had already returned and reported to Savaric.
Gabria and Nara stopped at the edge of the treld and watched the activity for several minutes. Gabria slid off the horse, and the Hunnuli dipped her head and gently rubbed her nose along the girl’s chest. Gabria scratched Nara’s ears.
The girl wished she could borrow some of the mare’s vast energy to bolster her own flagging strength. She was exhausted now, but she would have to sleep in the hall tonight with the unmarried men. She doubted she would have much rest.