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Eleeri looked back and laughed as the Keplians bucked and bounced in the clear air. With their friendship assured, it was wonderful how Tharna had become almost a different being. The colt, too, was growing, in mind abilities as well as size.

*Race you to the river!*

They had drifted away as the water curved slowly to their right. Now hooves pounded as horse and rider, with the Keplian mare before them, thundered toward the line of trees again. Hylan fell back, baby legs unable to keep up with even a horse as yet. His indignant cry was lost in the drum roll of hooves. They halted at the river and drank while Eleeri puttered along the bank watching the current.

“Does a stream run from this to the lake?”

*As I remember, it does,* Tharna responded.

“Well, we’ll stay this side of the river until we reach it. The stream should be shallower and so should the river, once we’ve passed the lake. We may be able to find a ford then.”

The Keplian stared out across the water. It was true they could not risk crossing yet. Hylan was too weak to risk him in such a current. But the river was slackening; if it continued to do so, they might be able to risk a crossing soon. She would be happy to be out of the Gray Ones’ territory. More than one Keplian foal had fallen to their teeth, even mares weakened by birthing or accident. She sent agreement and wandered on along the water’s edge.

Hylan arrived then and she licked him lovingly. He was so strong, so beautiful. Altogether a marvelous son—there had never been such a one, so wise and so clever. She followed the water and Hylan trailed his mother as Eleeri remounted. Their pace was slow. Not that the land was so rough, but large thickets of brush were now appearing along the riverbank. Rather than force passage, the friends were detouring around these, and each took them farther from the river until they found a path back.

The brush was a nuisance, the girl thought. But it was beautiful. The leaves were a light and silvery green. Berries grew in bird-appreciated profusion, and many species feasted merrily. She leaned down to pluck handfuls for herself after checking with Tharna. The ripe globes burst sweetly in her mouth. They had the smallest touch of tartness to their taste, just enough to quench thirst as well as hunger. She ate as they traveled, and when the bushes began to thin out, she dismounted. To the surprise of the Keplian mare, her friend now dug in the earth by a bush.

*What is it that you do?*

The girl looked up and grinned. “These berries are wonderful. I don’t know where we’re going, but I thought it’d be nice to have them when we get there.”

As she spoke, she was carefully separating several tiny runners from their mother. She had dug out the turf in which their roots were encased and now she tucked plants and earth securely into a saddlebag. Tharna looked on, eyes wide with interest and amusement. Humans: no wonder the world changed about them. It would never have occurred to a Keplian to do that, even if they could. Yet why not? Would it not be useful to have food where you wished it?

They paced on, following the life-giving water. As Hylan tired, they rested; with the night they slept. Time had no meaning beyond that. Rain drove them to shelter until it passed, then they moved on again. As they waited, Eleeri had chosen sticks. Now as she rode she smoothed the shafts, looking them over carefully and discarding a few. Two of the arrows she had shot at Gerae and his companions had been broken in their fall. The third Tharna had broken in her haste to ensure the man’s death. There would be other dangers; best she had a good supply of arrows. She worked as she rode; with Tharna ahead, the horse would merely follow.

Within two more days her quiver was full. She continued to work. It was not hard to do; she could converse with her friends as well. But once an enemy was sighted, there would be no time to make weapons.

Later she believed that something must have warned her. The impulse to make the arrows had been so strong. By the time they were attacked, she had more than three dozen riding in quiver and bedroll. Just after daylight they paused as Tharna mind-sent.

*Danger, sister-kin. The scent of Gray Ones comes to me on the breeze. They track us swiftly.*

Eleeri sent her mount into a slow trot. “How far ahead is the lake stream, do you think?”

*Last time the wind blew from there, it was far yet. But that was a day’s travel ago. I think by now it is close, although the smell blows away from us. What should we do?*

Eleeri thought quickly. It was the art of a warrior to make such decisions based on little knowledge and yet be correct. She spoke and the Keplians obeyed. Hylan leaped into a canter, running ahead of his dam and her friend. He could mind-send some distance by now, sufficient for them to know what was ahead. With luck, the pursuing pack would see that the adults kept to a steady pace, and assume the foal merely played.

Hylan raced up the shallow rise ahead, scanned the land before him with staring eyes. Down a long slope the lake glinted ahead under the sun. A stream lightly tumbled to it from the lustier river. He sent that and ran on.

The stream could be crossed near its junction with the lake. The water was deep, but the adults would be able to forge passage; it was not that strong a current. He stood there waiting. His family was some way back by now and could not be contacted.

Within the trees the Gray Ones trotted more quickly. Ahead their prey was dawdling. They could come up with them soon, then the feasting. There were more than a dozen of the pursuers. They could overcome any miserable Keplian and human. Their mouths watered. The foal would be the most tender; the mare’s despair would spice the dish. They hurried on.

Eleeri had held to the slow trot. It covered ground without tiring them, but kept them ahead. A quick flicker of her eyes to the rear and she saw that those who followed were closer. Still she kept to the pose of unwariness. Tharna crested the rise and as they started down the long slope, both received Hylan’s mind-picture.

As one they leaped forward, linked in battle plan. The thunder of hooves spurred the Gray Ones to hot pursuit, but the companions were minutes ahead as they reached Hylan and stream. With flying fingers, Eleeri detached her stirrup leathers, buckling them together and looping them about the foal’s belly. Then she thrust her mount forward into the water, Hylan at his side. The support would keep him close, keep his head above the water as they swam.

At the stream Tharna turned at bay. She would hold the Gray Ones while her foal crossed. It looked as if there had once been a ford here, but either the water was higher than usual or it had altered over time. Now the water was deep enough to force Eleeri and her mount to swim, but there was still one advantage left to them. Along the stream banks, thorn bushes grew thickly; only at the ford was there a clear space to the water.

Perhaps in another place the bushes thinned, but the pursuers seemed disinclined to search it out. Tharna stood before the gap, hooves at the ready, teeth bared. Eleeri was pressing her mount as hard as was safe. Even with the thorns protecting her flanks, the mare was in a lot of trouble; those wolf things hadn’t looked like pushovers to her. She splashed up the far bank, reached down to release the foal, and swung her horse back to the water. For a brief moment she sat to assess the situation.

Tharna was holding them. Not easily, but the hunt was unwilling to risk her teeth and hooves. Still the sounds were becoming more frenzied. Soon they would work themselves into a killing rage in which even death did not matter to them. If only Eleeri could break them before that occurred.

She heeled the horse downstream, where she could see the Gray Ones better and at an angle to the mare. Good. The bushes were low enough so that from the bank where it rose a little on this side, she could get a shot. She drew her bow, strung an arrow, waited as she breathed in, then loosed.