They seem prone to drowning, Morgaine observed. She dismounted, rubbed Siptahs cheek and dried her hand on the edge of his blanket.
Vanye slid down as they did, and caught his breath, reached for Siptahs reins and those of Liells black horse. The two beasts would not abide each other. Exhausted, out of patience, he walked Siptah and his own bay mare to cool them and spread his own cloak over Liells ill-tempered black in the meantime. The air was chill. They had ridden such a pace that the two greater horses were spent and his own little Mai had nearly burst her heart keeping up with them. Long after the two blooded horses were cooled and fit he was still tending to Mai, rubbing her to keep her from chill, until at last he dared let her drink the icy water and have a little grain from their stores. He was well content afterward to curl up on his cloak which he had recovered from the black, and try to sleep, shivering himself in what he feared was a recurrence of fever. He heard Liells soft voice and that of Morgaine, discussing the business of Leth, discussing old murders or old accidents that had happened on this lakeshore.
Then Morgaine disturbed his rest, for she never parted from Changeling, and wanted it from her gear. She slipped the dragon blades Korish-work strap over her head and hung it from her shoulder to her hip, and walked the shore a time with Liells black figure beside hers.
Then, in the great stillness, Vanye heard the coming of distant riders. Of that impulse he sprang up, flung saddle upon Siptah first: she was his first duty; and by this time Morgaine and Liell seemed to have heard, for they were coming back. Vanye pulled Siptahs girth to its proper tension and secured it, then furiously began to saddle poor Mai. The mare would die. If they were harried much farther, the little beast would go down under him. He hurt for her: the Nhi blood in him loved horses too well to use them so, though Nhi could be cruel in other ways.
Liell flung saddle to the black himself. I still much doubt, he said, that they will come to this shore.
I trust distance more than luck, said Morgaine. Do as you will, Chya Liell.
And she swung up to Siptahs back, having settled Changeling in its accustomed place at the saddle, and laid heels to the gray.
Vanye attempted to mount and follow after. Liells hand caught his arm, pulled him off balance, so that he staggered and looked at the man in outrage.
Do not follow her, hissed Liell. Listen to me. She will have the soul from you before she is done, Chya, Listen to me.
I am ilin, he protested. I have no choice.
What is an oath? Liell whispered urgently, all the while Siptahs hooves grew faint upon the shingle. She seeks the power to ruin the middle lands. You do not know how great an evil you are aiding. She lies, Chya Vanye. She has lied before, to the ruin of Koris, of Baien, of the best of the clans and the death of Morij-Yla. Will you help her? Will you turn on your own? The oath says betray family, betray hearth, but not the liyo; but does it say betray your own kind? Come with me, come with me, Chya Vanye.
For an aging man, Liell had surprising power in his hand: it numbed the blood from Vanyes hand by its grip upon his elbow. The eyes were hard and glittering, close to him in the dark. The sound of pursuit was nearer.
No, Vanye cried, ripping loose, and started to mount. Pain exploded across the base of his skull. The world turned in his vision and he had momentary view of Mais belly passing over him as the mare bolted. She jumped him, managing to avoid him with her hooves; he scrambled up against the earthen bank, half-blind, seeking to draw his sword.
Liell was upon him then, wresting his hand from the hilt, close to overpowering him, dazed as he was; but the thought of being taken by Leth animated him to frenzy. He twisted, not even trying to defend himself, only to tear free, to reach Morgaines side and keep his oath for his souls sake. Mai was out of reach; the black was at hand. He sprang for that saddle and laid heels to him before he was even sure of the reins, gathering them up and settling low in the saddle from his precarious balance. Black legs flashed long in the dark, muscles reached and gathered, bounding obstacles, splashing over inlets of the lake, surging up rises of the shore.
The black at last had run all he chose to run, beyond the shore and far upon the traiclass="underline" Vanye laid heel to him again, merciless in his fear. The animal gathered himself and plunged forward again.
Morgaines pale form was ahead. At last she looked around, seeming to hear him; she whipped up Siptah, and he cried out to her in despair, urging the black to further effort.
And she held back, pulling up, weapon in hand until he had come closer.
Vanye, she exclaimed softly as he drew alongside. Is thee thief too? What came of Liell?
He reached behind his head, felt a tenderness at the back of his head despite the leather coif. Dizziness assailed him, whether of the blow or of the fever, he did not know.
Liell is no friend of yours, he said.
Did you kill him?
No, he breathed, and was content to hang over the saddlebow a moment until his sight cleared. Then he urged the black into a gentle pace, Siptah keeping with him: no horses that had run all the distance from Ra-leth could overtake them now.
Is thee much hurt? she asked.
No.
What did he? Did he lift weapon against you?
Tried to hold metried to persuade me to break oath.
And the other thing he would not tell her, the urging and then the vile feeling he had had of the look in Liells eyes, a feverish anxiousness that had wanted something of him, a touch that had twice sunk cruelly into his arm, an avarice matching the hunger in his eyes.
It was not a thing he could tell anyone: he did not know what to name it, or why he had provoked it, or what it aimed at, only that he would die before he fell into the hands of Leth, and most especially those of Liell.
His back had been turned: the man could easily have cut him across the backs of the knees, quickest way to disable a man elsewhere armored, slain him out of hand; instead he had fetched him a crack across the skull, had risked greatly taking him hand to hand when he could have killed him safely: he had wanted him alive.
He could not remember it without shuddering. He wanted nothing of the man. It filled him with loathing to possess the gear and the horse that he had stolen: the black beast with its ill temper was a creature more splendid and less honest than his little Mai, and leaving his little mare in those hands grieved him.
Deep forest closed about them, straight and proper trees now, and they walked the horses until there was no sky overhead, only the interlacing branches. The horses were spent and they themselves were blind with weariness. This is no place to stop, he protested when Morgaine reined in. Lady, let us sleep in the saddle tonight, walk the horses while they may. This is Koriswood, and it may have been different in your day, but this is the thick of it. Please.
She sighed in misery, but for once she looked at him and listened, and consented with a nod of her head. He dismounted and took the reins of both horses, both too weary to contest each other, and led them.
She rested a time, then leaned down and bade him stop, offered to take the reins and walk and lead the horses; he looked at her, tired as he was, and had not wit to argue with her. He only turned his back and kept walking, to which she consented by silence.
And eventually she slept, Kurshin-wise, in the saddle.
He walked so far as he could, long hours, until he was stumbling with exhaustion. He stopped then and put his hand on Siptahs neck.
Lady, he said softly, not to break the hush of the listening wood. Lady, now you must wake because I must sleep. Things are quiet.