“Tharna, it seems to me that we act on each other.”
The fine powerful head above her nodded.
Eleeri leaned against a warm shoulder, absently stroking it. “That first contact with your mind was terrible. But when I thrust away fear and returned, it was no longer so frightening. Now, as my mind touches yours without fear, your mind, too, is calm.” She deepened the bond slowly and spoke then, asking the question she had thought before.
“Are you of the Dark, battle-sister? I do not think so, but those others did.”
The mare shook her head and stamped a hoof, bringing a squeal of indignation from the foal. He hadn’t finished yet. His mother should remain still.
*We are not born to the Dark, only to shade and shadow. Some make the choice to join wholly with the Dark, others do not. Long ago when the adepts warred, we were made. Why, we do not know. They made other races, too.
*Many of the stallions turn to the Dark, fewer mares. Our males are more warlike. The stallions resent humans, I think, for their fears, their hates, and for all that humans seem to have.*
“Would you turn to the Dark?”
The mare lowered her head to Eleeri’s shoulder. *Not now, battle-sister. You killed your own to save mine.* A soft nose brushed against a softer cheek. *I have always refused to speak your name. Now I do. Eleeri I name you. Battle-sister you have named me. Do you also name me as friend?*
The girl’s hands smoothed the warm hide. “I do so. Neither un-friend nor half-friend are you, but friend. Sister-kin, if you will accept it so, and kin to the small one.”
Acceptance and a shy pleasure radiated from the mare. Arms about the muscled neck, Eleeri stood for long minutes, savoring the communion. She loved horses, but they could only fill her loneliness so far. But this, this was fullness. A kin-sister, a friend, one to speak with who could reply. One to care for who cared in return. She pushed herself away and took down the bag where she kept her herbs.
“A good sister would care for your wounds.” She brushed on the soothing juices with gentle fingers. Her hands admired the powerful muscles, the sleek hide, the arched and flowing mane and tail.
Under twin pleasures of hand and mind, the mare relaxed, savoring the first deep communion she had ever enjoyed. Friendship wove its way through her being. Only with her mother had she felt this acceptance before. She felt the bitterness drain away, her hatred of humans who condemned what they could not understand. This one was not like that. This one had faced all she found, and accepted.
She felt as if she floated, trusting, serene. Long moments slipped by. She loved this one, battle-sister, friend, kin-kind. The Dark whispered to her—and was rejected. Who had need of such a night when sunlight beckoned? Besides, she knew well that always the Dark betrayed. So many of her kind had been seduced by its wiles, and lived only long enough to regret that seduction. She would not be one; she was shade and shadow, but not the Dark, never the Dark now that she understood the Light.
In perfect accord, the three set out on the last mile to the river. Hylan did not understand what had happened. He only knew that his mother and friend were happy. It was enough.
*Do we cross the river or follow it?* Tharna queried, scanning the plain doubtfully. In her mind Eleeri saw pictures of the Gray Ones who often roamed this area.
“If this is their place, best we get away. From your mind they’re no respecters of either of our kinds.”
They trotted hurriedly along the riverbank. No crossing could be seen and the water ran deep and strongly.
“Do you know this area well?”
Tharna shook her head. *I think the river runs far. It comes from the western mountains, and I have heard of a lake somewhere to the west also. The Gray Ones avoid the area; there are ruins there which are un-friend to their kind.*
“Good. Then we’ll go that way,” Eleeri said practically. “Any place they don’t like should be right for us.” She headed her mount upriver and the Keplians followed.
Now travel together was delight. They explored each other’s ideas and the mare heard much of what a different world could be like. About them the scenery was unchanging.
Eleeri had time to muse upon Tharna’s mind-pictures of the Gray Ones and what Cynan had said of them. It was possible Tharna’s enmity for the creatures colored her impressions to some extent. Still, Eleeri thought, they did not attract her as any kind of ally. They walked upright in a slouch. The head was narrow, with tooth-filled mouth and small red eyes gleaming from shaggy, dirt-matted gray fur. From Tharna’s memories Eleeri knew the brutes to be intelligent. Well, they could speak but rarely did. Their habits were such as to disgust most intelligent beings. They wore no clothes, nor did they carry weapons.
They were fighters if brought to bay, or in the grip of battle-madness. Otherwise they preferred to fight only when the odds were strongly in their favor. Like much of the Dark, they feared to cross running water. Until blood-mad, they would hold back from that.
Since they were nearing Gray One territory, Eleeri kept her bow ready now. Beside her the mare, too, was thinking. The way she and the human seemed to agree interested her oddly. The Keplians had no real legends of origin. There were only vague beliefs that they had been created by adepts during the ancient wars. Some had believed horses to have been the basis for that creation. They had been slain if they voiced that belief, though. No stallion would endure the idea. Yet it felt so comfortable to walk beside this human. So peaceful.
She watched the plodding pony. What would it feel like to bear a human like that? Not with saddle and bridle, but bare of back, feeling every shift and sway of the human’s body? She thrust the idea away, concentrating on Eleeri’s enjoyment of the day instead. She could read some of that. The river flowing by in crystal ripples, the stones’ gray hues, the brown of river earth showing in patches where stones had shifted. Shrubs and often large clumps of trees provided shade and shelter for many bright birds. For the first time Tharna found beauty pointed out to her, a mutual delight.
Their thoughts flowed together more casually now as they found pleasure in each other’s company. Hylan, too, seemed to be gaining in intelligence. The mare wondered about that. Could it be that such communion allowed him to find potential denied to others of his sex? Stallions mated and fought—that was their destiny. But was it? She followed the horse as her mind grappled with new ideas. She was certain that no one of her kind had ever been friend and sister-kin to a human before. Or if they had, it was time out of mind ago. No legends existed of this. No human had ever been moved to accept a Keplian as friend; always before they had fled or given battle when minds touched.
But this one had done more. And it was as if Eleeri’s acceptance of Tharna had opened new doors within the mare. As if—as if it were right that they be friends. The Great Ones of old had designed Keplians. Had it been for this, to walk as their friends? The human—no, Eleeri—admired her friend’s beauty and strength. She spoke with pride that Tharna could outspeed the horse. There was love and friendship in her mind whenever she turned to Tharna or Hylan. Was this how it had once been intended to be?
The mare did not know, but she knew that this idea pleased her. Her kind lived in isolation even among themselves. A mare would fight savagely for her foal, but only as long as he suckled. After that, he was ignored. Would she cease to love Hylan once he grew?
She shivered her skin, to chase away the idea as she would a fly. Never. She would love her son as long as they both lived. Her head came up and, feeling the sunlight on her back, she leaped, twisting into the air. It felt good to unkink powerful muscles. She thrust up again and with a baby squeal of excitement Hylan followed suit.