Rena shrugged. As sure as I can be of anything. I wouldn't ask them to behave like a trained horse, though. They won't take a bit or a bridle, and we'll have to go in the direction they want, but they'll take our weight on their backs easily enough. I tried with my pack, and it didn't bother either of them. She patted the mare on the shoulder; the beast didn't even move. There was a certainty in her words and her actions that hadn't been there before today.
Lorryn thought that over; Rena had blossomed in the last day into someone he hardly recognized. Not all that long ago he had wished that she would somehow grow some spine and stop being such a burden—well, perhaps this was a manifestation of the old admonition to be careful what one wished for. It had taken this to bring her into her own.
But to trust her to tame an alicorn? Was the risk worth the benefits?
Well—they're faster than we are, and they won't leave boot-prints, he said, thinking out loud. That alone, I think, is worth the risk—even if we have to go where they want to. And since I've never, ever heard of an alicorn trying to invade settled lands, at least we won't have to worry about them heading for someone else's estate. If you're sure they won't rum on us, that is—
He couldn't help it; those orange eyes seemed gentle, but could he trust that they would stay that way? That horn was as long as his arm, and sharp as any spear, and he'd heard even the foals knew how to use their horns as weapons almost from birth. Add in the fangs and the foreclaws…
I'm sure, she said firmly. I tamed a shrike once, and it was more vicious and had less mind than these do. I can do it, Lorryn; it's one thing I am completely sure of.
She had certainly done wonders with her garden full of birds. Good enough. He walked over to the stallion, the bigger of the two, and cautiously laid a hand on its shoulder. It didn't even look up from the pile of grass that Rena had pulled and changed for it to eat. He hefted his pack in his free hand; would it really bear the weight of him and the pack as well?
Put your pack on him first, she said, just over the shoulders. Then get on slowly. Just don't make any moves that might startle him.
That wasn't going to be easy, not without a saddle. Still. He followed her instructions, as she draped her own pack over the mare's shoulders; her pack, like his, was now arranged so that it was a tube with her gear in equal parts at each end and a flat place in the middle. That had been his idea, to make it as much like saddlebags as possible. Staying on bareback would be hard enough; they'd never be able to stay on with packs strapped to their backs.
The stallion looked up, craned his long neck around so that he could peer at the pack, then resumed eating.
Lorryn put both hands on the stallion's warm back, just be hind the pack. This would be something like one of the exercises he'd trained in, just slower. He only hoped his arms were up to it; it was going to be a real strain on his muscles.
He hoisted himself up with his arms alone, moving slowly and leaning his weight onto the alicorn's back, and slid his leg up over the alicorn's rump at the same time. He had a bad moment when the stallion jumped slightly, and fidgeted as it felt his weight. But then the beast settled again, and he got his seat, thankful he'd learned to ride bareback.
Rena was already in place, looking uncommonly cheerful, considering their current condition. She also looked far more alive than he'd ever seen her; there was a faint rosy flush on her cheeks, her green eyes sparkled, and even her hacked-off hair looked better fluffed in untidy curls around her face than it had when it was beaded and braided and beribboned. It was too bad all those so-called friends of his couldn't see her now; they'd never call her plain again. She was definitely in her element. Freedom suited her.
We'll have to wait until they finish eating, she told him. Then they'll go wherever it was they were heading in the first place when we caught them. She tilted her head to one side. Are you wearing an illusion? she added, changing the subject so completely, she took him by surprise.
With a start, he realized that he was; it had become second nature. He nodded. I can't remember a moment that I've had it off, he told her. Except very rare times when Mother and I were checking to see that it was solid. I even have it up, sleeping.
Can I see what you look like without it?
He considered her request, and shrugged. I don't see why not. It took an effort of will to cancel the illusion on himself, and he saw from her face that she was disappointed in the result
He grinned at her reaction, in part because he had expected it. Sorry, little sister. No fangs, no bulging muscles, no horns. The best and easiest illusions are always simply enhancements or slight changes in what was already there, you know.
She tilted her head to the other side, birdlike, and considered him from all angles before she answered him. Your hair is yellower than any boy's I've ever seen, except the humans, she said at last. Your ears are blunter and smaller. And you're just a bit more muscular. But you're still Lorryn. I'd still know you anywhere.
He bowed, mockingly. Exactly so, and precisely the point I suspect Mother may have worked some of those weak little magics on me as a baby to make the illusion easier to carry—lightening my hair, for instance, and seeing to it I didn't turn into a muscle-bound gladiator. But—
At just that moment, the stallion finished the last scrap of grass, and without any warning, went from a standstill to a fast walk, heading south, the mare behind him. He lurched onto a deer path with a half-rum, as Lorryn fought for balance.
Lorryn clung to the slick back, wishing the alicorn would at least tolerate some kind of bellyband to give him something to hold on to! Especially if it was going to move off without warning like that!
They're going the way we wanted to! Rena exclaimed behind him, pleased.
At least she had a little warning!
They're also going a lot faster than I thought they would! he exclaimed, as the stallion moved from a fast walk into an even faster pace—it wasn't a trot, but it was just as fast as a trot Fortunately, whatever this gait was, the alicorn moved more smoothly than any horse he'd ever ridden, and from the way it had its ears perked forward, its head up, and its tail flagged, it could probably carry on like this all day. If so—nothing short of magic would have served as well to get them out of danger. Magic—or maybe a dragon.
This is amazing, he said after a while, full of awe. No wonder the alicorns were so hard to track and hunt! No one had ever described them moving like this! Why, they would be long out of reach before a hound picked up their scent, even though the trail itself seemed fresh! I've never ridden a beast like this in my life!
They are lovely, aren't they? Rena agreed. Her voice sounded wistful. I wish we could stay with them—but I don't think the changes I made run deep enough to hold if they ever begin to hunt. Once they taste blood—I have the feeling nothing would keep them tame. There's a feeling about that under the surface of them. Their instincts are very powerful, and instincts are the hardest things to change.
Well, we'll have to make certain they don't get any blood, he said firmly. But that observation set his own thoughts running; no matter how grave a situation, there was always a stray part of his mind that would analyze everything. His ancestors had bred the alicorns as war-beasts; it might be that if that part of their nature could be expunged, and the taste of flesh eliminated, they'd revert to a gentler nature.