Wind Dancer had left her and was trotting busily about the clearing. His ears went up, signaling interest, then he was gone. She caught a glimpse of him as he followed a trail, and her own curiosity was pricked. She hastily bound both men and followed her friend.
He led her to a half-cave in a rock outcrop. He padded inside and a young male voice spoke in astonishment.
“What are you? You’re either the biggest of your kind I’ve ever seen or not what you appear. Are you… are you one of the power?”
Wind Dancer chirped a summons to his human. Aisling smiled and obeyed. If Wind Dancer called, then there was no danger for her here. She stepped into the half-cave and looked about. The man who’d spoken was bound in a positive cocoon of rope. He’d been gagged but he had managed to scrape that free. His face was a mask of blood and bruises, but he appeared little damaged apart from what had clearly been a nasty beating.
His face under the mess was vaguely familiar. She took out her leather water bottle, wiped away some of the blood from the man’s face, and allowed him to drink. Then she stepped back.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?”
He looked up at her wryly. “I came with a friend to wait for one who came seeking those who waited at a gate.” Aisling straightened. That was half of the password. Could it be this was the true messenger? She looked at him.
“In summer the lawleaves feed many birds,” Aisling said slowly.
He nodded, grimacing as he moved. “And in winter berries are few, but bears may feast before.”
It was the password, yet she must move carefully. She knelt at his side. “I have to be certain. How came you here, and who were the two other men I met first?”
“Two others? Are they secured?” She nodded. “Then I shall speak swiftly. We should be away from here as fast as we can. Where two found you, others may follow. Word came to me that my friend and I should bring a spare mount, meet a traveler here and guide her back to the duchy. We found four men waiting at a deserted garth. They challenged us and we fought. We escaped them, killing one and leaving another wounded, but still the others pursued.
“We came to a wood and circled it. There was in me a warning that to enter would not be worth the time we might save on the trail. Later we were ambushed by those we had escaped. It seems they did not fear the wood.” He sighed. “A right choice still for us. They paid the wood with their wounded one for free passage. They boasted of it. One of them is skilled with a sling. I was struck on the head, and when I recovered they had my friend.”
He looked up at Aisling, his eyes filling with tears. “I knew he was weak. I should never have allowed him to know what I did. The fault was mine. Mine the blame.”
Aisling nodded. So this one’s companion had talked, under torture or threat of it. “What happened to him afterward?”
“They cut his throat and laughed.” His voice was savage. “But he had not quite betrayed you. He gave them almost the password twisting only the last portion. I can still see his eyes now, so hopeful on me. Begging me to understand and forgive him.” He sobbed once. “I knew he feared pain. He was taken once when he was a child, because someone recalled his family had a trace of the Old Blood. When my family found him he’d been terribly treated. After that he always feared pain greatly. The men who took us hurt him badly… he could not withstand it. Lady, please. Do not condemn him.”
Aisling remembered her grandmother’s tale of how her family had died in the Horning. Despite his terror this one’s friend had still lied, given her a warning and a chance to turn the tables. Aisling knelt and slashed the ropes. “Where does his body lie? We should bury him before we leave.” The sudden light in his face was payment.
“Back by the edge of the wood. But what of these you left bound? Lady, it is too dangerous to leave them alive. They would not talk freely and I… I have little stomach for torture. But I would like very much to know who sent them and who they sought.” As he spoke he was stretching, loosening muscles stiffened by a long time bound in one place.
Aisling smiled grimly. “Not torture, no. But they will talk.” She offered him the water bottle again, and he drank. Better to remain wary, Aisling thought. She looked at him and felt again the sense that somewhere she had seen him before. He looked at her as he handed back the container, and she nodded. “What is your name?”
He looked worried. “Is it safe to share names, Lady? Yet I owe you a life. I shall give you mine and let you use another ’til such time as you are certain of my honor. I am Hadrann of Aranskeep.”
Aisling bit back a gasp. So that was why she’d half-recognized his face. She’d seen his father at Teral Market. Her grandparents had been friends with the Lord of Aranskeep, and sometimes if they met at the market, they shared food in one of the larger private rooms. She searched her memory. Yes, this was the heir. They called him Rann for short, and he’d often been at Kars court. He’d also shipped on a Sulcar trader for a year.
She’d seen his father on a number of occasions but in her recollection, never Rann. Or maybe she had. There was a dim memory of a young boy with the Lord of Aranskeep once. Oblivious to her thoughts, Rann was continuing to stretch and work his muscles back into shape. The lady would give him a name to use when she was ready. Aisling finished thinking and nodded to him.
“My name is Jonrie of Jontor’s garth at Aiskeep.”
His brows went up. “So that is why you look familiar. I’ve seen Lord Trovagh more than once.” He suddenly recalled she had claimed garth as home, not keep, and his face flamed. “Forgive me. I spoke without thinking.”
Aisling had real trouble keeping her face straight. So he’d leaped to the conclusion she was her grandfather’s bastard, had he? That was well enough. It explained a lot without giving too much away. She made her mouth droop a little.
“It is true the Lord and I are kin. I would not deny it. He and his have always treated me well. And from the line I received gifts.” That last she emphasized a little and saw him understand. It was quite true, too, she reflected, just not exactly as he’d believe. “Now, let us seek out those I bound and require them to make accounting.”
With Wind Dancer bringing up the rear she led Rann off along the trail. As she walked she wondered: just how had the heir to Aranskeep become mixed up in this affair. She’d like to hear, but at the moment there were other questions more pressing. She entered the small clearing and stood looking down grimly on the two bound and gagged forms that lay there still, glaring up at her defiantly. She needed answers and she would have them.
III
The two men had wriggled to a half-sitting position against each other, and as Aisling and Rann arrived, one had been attempting to chew the bonds. They flinched as Wind Dancer padded forward to smell them. He looked back at Aisling, his nose wrinkling in disgust. She chuckled.
“You might get free that way, but not for a month or so. Better you answer my questions. I might then let you go in a shorter time.” She eyed them thoughtfully. “Kirion sent you.” Her voice was flat. It had to be.
The older of the pair jerked in disbelief. “How—?”
“Did I know?” She wasn’t going to mention that Wind Dancer had smelled Kirion’s scent on the smaller, younger man and had sent her a picture. “Ah, but I know many things. And,” her tone shifted to signal danger, “I shall know more. You will tell me. I already know who sent you hunting. You were sent to find me and take me prisoner. Kirion said you were not to lay hands on me on pain of death. I was to be brought to him untouched and undamaged, wasn’t I?” He stared up sullenly. “You know all, Lady. Why ask us then?”