From her vantage point, Gabria could look down the valley to where the creek flowed between two gentle bluffs and tumbled out to a white beach. Even from the ridge, she could see the boat sheds, drying racks, and docks that crowded the sands. Beyond those, the small fleet of tiny fishing boats bobbed on the sparkling water.
“No wonder their horses are such poor beasts,” Keth, the warrior in front of Bregan, said aloud. “The clan is nothing but a bunch of fisher folk.”
“They can still fight, so keep a civil tongue in your head,” Athlone reminded him sharply.
“They couldn’t last summer,” the warrior muttered.
Lord Athlone ignored him. Fisher folk or no, the Reidhar were still clan and kindred in blood and spirit, and despite Lord Caurus’s refusal to fight Lord Medb the year before, Athlone felt that the Reidhar still deserved the respect due any clan. Lord Caurus was a great warrior and fiercely devoted to his people. It was not cowardice that had forced him to leave that disastrous gathering, it was his own independent nature and an unfortunate distrust of the Khulinin.
Athlone nodded to his companions, and the party rode downhill toward the busy treld. On a rise nearby, an outrider drew a horn and sounded a warning to the camp below. At the edge of the treld, another rider left his post and galloped down the valley to find the chieftain. By the time Gabria and her party reached the fringe of the encampment, Lord Caurus and his hearthguard were gathered on horseback in the middle of the path. Behind them clustered other warriors and clansmen, until the entire way was blocked. Their faces were wary as Athlone and Bregan spurred their horses forward to meet Lord Caurus.
The Reidhar chieftain was obviously startled by Lord Athlone’s sudden, unexpected arrival at his treld. Caurus made no attempt to hide his suspicious, angry expression, but he remembered enough of his manners to greet Athlone first. He raised his hand. “Hail, Khulinin. Welcome to Reidhar Treld.”
“Greetings, Lord Caurus,” Athlone replied evenly. He eyed the heavily armed men around the chief. “This doesn’t look like much of a welcome. Were you expecting someone else?”
“We were expecting no one. Least of all you.”
Athlone shrugged. “I did not have time to send messengers. Our mission is urgent. We had not planned to stop, but we are in need of supplies and extra horses.”
“We have no extra horses,” Caurus said belligerently.
The Khulinin chief clicked his tongue. “Lord Caurus, do I need to remind you of the dictums of clan hospitality? Just last spring you were rumored to be the most generous host in the clans. Have you forgotten in one short year?”
“I have not forgotten.” Caurus shifted in his saddle, his ruddy face wary. “You are welcome, Lord Athlone, but we cannot allow that sorceress to enter our treld.”
With difficulty, Athlone swallowed his rising anger and stared coolly at the red-haired chieftain. “Why not, Caurus? She has been welcomed by other clans. We will not leave her at the edge of camp.”
“We are about to celebrate our Birthright ceremony. If that heretic were to enter our treld, Amara would curse our clan forever.”
The other Reidhar warriors muttered in agreement. The clan wer-tain kicked his horse forward and deliberately dropped his hand to his sword hilt.
Inwardly, Athlone groaned. He had expected reluctance and suspicion, but not outright refusal. It was their bad luck to have arrived so close to the clan’s Birthright ceremonies.
“Gabria,” Athlone called over his shoulder. “Come here and bring the foal.”
The startled Reidhar fell back a step, and a hint of fear passed over Caurus’s face as Gabria rode Nara forward to stand by Athlone. The colt and Eurus came with her.
A long moment passed before anyone spoke. The men of the Reidhar stared in open amazement at the fair woman and the magnificent black horses.
Finally Athlone asked, “Would Amara bless Gabria and her Hunnuli with a healthy colt if she were displeased?” His tone was deceptively pleasant.
This possibility stunned Lord Caurus. His face grew as red as his hair as he snuggled to find a solution to the dilemma Athlone had thrust on him. He never imagined the sorceress could be anything but evil. And yet, if that were true, how could she now have three Hunnuli, one a baby? The Hunnuli despised evil and avoided it at all costs. Still . . .
Caurus suddenly threw up his hands in disgust. “The sorceress and her Hunnuli may stay. But,” he glared at all of the party “only for one night.”
Athlone barely nodded in reply. “Your generosity is overwhelming.”
The Reidhar wer-tain slammed his fist on his sword. “Lord Caurus, you cannot allow this!” he shouted. “That . . . female is a magic-wielder! I don’t care how many Hunnuli tag after her, she’s a profaning heretic. The goddess will never forgive us for bringing her into camp.”
“Gringold,” Caurus said in annoyance, “I have made my decision. Abide by it!”
“As wer-tain of this clan, I cannot let her evil endanger our people.”
“And as chieftain of this clan, it is my decision to make,” Lord Caurus thundered. “I will not dishonor the Reidhar by refusing aid to another chieftain.”
With a snarl on his lips, the wer-tain backed down, but he savagely reined his horse over to Nara and leaned forward, his eyes blazing like a wolf’s. The wer-tain was a big man with heavy muscles and the overbearing attitude of a bully. He bore the scars of many battles and carried a full array of warrior’s weapons.
Nara pinned her ears back and snorted a warning. Gabria remained still, her expression cool and unruffled as the wer-tain shook his fist at her.
“Lord Caurus has given you one night, Sorceress. If you do anything that reeks of magic, I’ll slit your throat.”
“Thank you, Wer-tain Gringold, for your gracious welcome,” Gabria said with all the politeness she could muster.
“Gringold,” Caurus snapped. “Return to the treld and prepare quarters for our guests.”
They all breathed a sigh of relief when the wer-tain saluted his lord, spurred his horse away, and disappeared into the treld.
A very dangerous man, Gabria thought to herself. Her mouth tightened to a thin line, and she sadly remembered the Jehanan. She knew full well the Reidhar would never offer her companions a welcome like the one Sha Umar’s clan had provided.
She was quite right. Escorted by Lord Caurus and the warriors of the clan, Gabria and her party were led through the treld to the stone huts at the edge of the camp that were used to house guests. The huts were cold, damp, and sparsely furnished with a few cots and a fireplace. As soon as the party reached the huts, the Reidhar left them for the rest of the afternoon. No one came to talk, offer wine, or bring food or firewood, and no one brought blankets or the barest necessities due to a guest. The Reidhar blatantly ignored them all.
After a while, Piers found the clan healer and talked him into giving them enough firewood to light a fire in one of the huts. Two warriors, Secen and Keth, filled the water skins at the stream, and Gabria and Sayyed unpacked the bedrolls. After a great deal of trouble and effort, Athlone and Bregan found a trader willing to deal for several horses.
The trader was from Calah and spent his time traveling the plains and dealing in horseflesh. He had stopped at Reidhar Treld for a few days and had been disappointed with the trade so far. He was pleased to barter with the Khulinin for their pure-blooded Harachan.