Well, she replied, as she thought about that from the standpoint of the fact that she knew they'd been created from other animals by some long-ago High Lord, the High Lords wanted something that could feed itself in all situations, so I suppose that makes sense. But what does that have to do with us?'
Lorryn turned back to look at her, bracing himself with one hand on the stallion's rump. Not much, except that we're going to have to abandon these two before they reach a big herd. I don't think the herd would tolerate us, and I don't think you can gentle an entire herd of the beasts.
She thought once again of the blood on her mare's muzzle, and shivered. No, I don't think I can either. But what about the wizards?
Well, I've been thinking about that, he replied. Once we crossed that river, I daresay we're beyond any holding the elven lords ever claimed. If we don't find any sign of habitation, we can turn back to the river and follow it for a while. I can start listening for thoughts, which ought to give us a clue where they are. And we can both watch for dragons.
I've been watching for dragons, she replied truthfully. And I haven't seen any.
I haven't sensed any thoughts but beasts' since the river either. He studied her from his seat on the alicorn's back. I also think I ought to put an illusion of full humanity on both of us. Just in case.
She covertly stretched aching muscles, and gave him the same close regard. I think you might be right, she replied thoughtfully. You look a little too elven.
Plus, we're out where we might well run into free humans, he reminded her. I've read a lot of history from the first Wizard War and before. I know of several groups who were supposed to be out here, at least back as far as the histories go—the grel-riders and the Corn People. The last thing I want to do is frighten anyone. Or—well, neither the riders or the Corn People have any reason to think of elves as anything but enemies. I would rather they didn't shoot at us before asking questions.
As if the alicorns themselves wouldn't encourage them to do that? But she nodded her agreement, and a few moments later, sensed that tingling that told her Lorryn was working magic on her.
I wonder if I could change my own shape, the ears and the eyes anyway, the way I changed my birds? she thought. Better not try right now, though. It's probably a very bad idea, with all the other things I'm doing with my magics. If she lost control over the alicorns—
Best not to add one more ball to the lot she already was juggling.
She looked off to her right, and saw with relief that the sun was near the horizon. It would be time to stop soon.
We should talk about when we want to leave the alicorns, he called back to her. 'Tonight.
After I make supper, she replied. She would literally be making supper out of the plants they would gather—and she would make some sweet treats to ensure that the alicorns would come back after their hunt.
That was another reason she was so tired. The entire burden of their food supply rested on her slim shoulders, and she had never worked so much magic before this. She'd never realized it would tire her out so much, the more so the farther along they were.
I wish the alicorns were enough like hounds that you could get them to bring us something back, he said wistfully.
He was probably as weary of grass-cake and stewed grass as she was.
But—
The recollection of the mare returning one night, with not only blood on her muzzle, but a shred of what could have been cloth stuck in her teeth, made her do more than shiver. There had been a hunter on their trail until then, and Rena had been wishing that the alicorns could drive him off. Had the mare somehow sensed her wishes and followed through on them in her own way? She didn't know, and probably never would know, but the hunter had certainly disappeared after that night.
I don't, she said with a shiver. I don't.
Caellach Gwain surveyed his audience with satisfaction. So far, he had most of the oldest and most senior of the wizards behind him—even those who had not cared to speak out before were more willing to show their true feelings now that Shana was gone.
Caellach only hoped she would stay away forever. Without her egging them on, the youngsters were not so sure of themselves or of their powers. Only her inner circle continued in their impudent defiance of authority, and they were kept so busy denuding the old Citadel that they had little time for mischief among the others.
I'll tell you how I've been getting my proper help back, Caellach told the others. I started with the humans. They're so used to taking orders from anyone that looks even vaguely like an authority that they never once question me, they just go and do what I tell them to. He frowned slightly. Granted, they're bare children, but even children can pick up after me or fetch my dinner.
Doesn't anyone ever come looking for them? ventured one of the others.
Caellach shrugged. Maybe, but they never come looking in my quarters. I suppose whoever's in charge of these brats must think they're sneaking off to play. I just tell them that they are to say that a wizard had important tasks for them, and that seems to take care of the matter.
He doubted, in the confusion that the new Citadel represented, that anyone had missed the children he borrowed from the work crews. There was a veritable swarm of human and wizard children, and children were of very little use at anything requiring strength or stamina. That left only what he would call household chores, and why should they not be using their time properly in serving a single master rather than gathering reeds or some other such nonsense?
He said as much, and the other nodded sagely.
Pick out the frightened ones, he advised, the ones that try not to be seen, that shrink away into shadows and corners when they get the chance. They're the most tractable, and the least likely to be missed. And think—if they're that shy, we'll be doing them a favor, keeping them away from crowds! Without a doubt, those children need a firm hand, someone to give them specific orders so they don't have to think. He lifted a sardonic eyebrow at one of the others who looked a bit doubtful. Children should not think, anyway. They aren't equipped to think. They should learn, listen, and obey.
I suppose you're right, the wizard said, a bit doubtfully. But still— '
Oh, don't get sentimental over them, they're only human snapped someone else, before the dissenter could come up with anything concrete to base his objections on. It's not as if they're ever going to be of any real use to the Citadel except as servants! Better they learn that little fact now, while there's time to train them in their proper place!
More heads nodded agreement, and the dissenter subsided. Caellach took control of the meeting again.
That's not the only reason I asked you all here, he said, in a low and confidential tone. We really need to do something about the state of things here.
State of things? one of the oldest quavered indignantly. 'Travesty, you mean! Young brats carrying on as if they were senior—seniors being forced to fetch their own meals and sweep their own floors— His unsteady voice rose, full of unsteady wrath. No respect! No proper conduct! No regard for custom! That's what's wrong here! I was willing to put up with nonsense while we were out there. He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the mouth of the caverns. You expect a certain amount of disorganization and slackness when there's no real structure to living, so to speak. But now, now we're living in proper quarters, and things should go back to the way they were! It was good enough for our forebears, by heaven, and it should be good enough for us!